Blue Collar Angel
by caribou.and.cake
Summary: "We can't pay our bills, everyone in this godforsaken town hates us, yer RA's gettin' worse by the day…but I love you in a way that is soul-sucking and undying and illegal in twenty states, so let's try and make this work, yeah?" AU, GrimmIchi
1. Seraph

**Summary: **'We can't pay our bills, everyone in this godforsaken town hates us, yer RA's gettin' worse by the day…but I love you in a way that is soul-sucking and undying and illegal in twenty states, so let's try and make this work, yeah?' AU, Yaoi

**Warnings**: AU, Yaoi, Lemon, some heavy gay bashing due to nameless OC's (I'm not kidding about this, I even surprised myself when I wrote it), language, violence.

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><p><strong>Blue Collar Angel I<strong>

**Seraph **

...

_For Firefly, the only person I'll probably ever be able to show this to in real life. You're awesome, babe._

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><p><em>You've never seen the lonely me at all.<em>

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><p><em>"I'm sorry, Ichigo, but we're going to have to let you go."<em>

Everyone dreads those words, right? They're even worse than the infamous 'we need to talk', and in the back of his mind, Ichigo knew it had been coming for a while now, but that still didn't stop from his heart cracking a little bit when he heard them.

It wasn't like he really cared about the job, it was actually pretty awful, but he desperately needed it, needed the pitiful income it provided. So much so that he tried his hardest to hide the fact that slowly but surely his hands had lost most of their mobility.

How was he going to tell the love of his life that he had lost his job, that now they would be struggling more than ever? How could he face the man that saved him more ways and times than he could count and confess that he had failed the both of them?

Ichigo closed his eyes, exhaling harshly, his breath visible in the cold December air. He wrapped his arms around himself as he walked past Hanging Dog's only grocery store, ignoring the stares and disapproving frowns being sent his way. He didn't care.

There was only one person he could bring himself to be concerned about.

He stopped at the corner of the sidewalk, looking up at the heavy, light gray sky filled with clouds that blocked the pure blue heavens. Scowling, Ichigo lowered his gaze to stare across the street where a very familiar neon sign flickered and he couldn't help but smile just the slightest bit.

_Yeah, just one person_.

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><p>As the only openly gay man in the pathetically small town of Hanging Dog, Ichigo had a rough time looking for work after high school. He didn't have the money to pay for college, and combine that with the fact that he was gay, very few employers had even given him the time of day. But Ichigo wasn't ever going to pretend that he was something he wasn't, he had spent far too long coming to terms with the fact that he was gay himself. He had been bullied incessantly in school after he had come out, kicked out of his family home by his own so-called father, mugged, beaten, humiliated, shunned, you name it.<p>

That was how he had met the angel-faced, blue-haired man that had become his salvation.

It had been right after the end of high school, a warm, muggy night in June. Ichigo had been living in the only motel in the entire town with what little money he had on him that some kind, distant relatives had sent to him for his graduation. After the ceremony he hadn't been allowed to participate in because his presence might cause a 'disturbance'. And yet, somehow, the tormentors he had gone to school with, that he had foolishly thought he would never see again after he left the wretched institution, had found out where he was and apparently they had realized their own lives were actually quite boring and decided to seek him out for entertainment.

He had been walking down the hallway of the motel, a small bag of fast-food in his hand, when he heard someone whistling behind him. Ichigo had paused, turning slowly on his heel to look over his shoulder at three former classmates of his, all with cruel sneers on their faces, a malevolent glint in their usually dull eyes.

Ichigo bit his lip, his eyes flitting down the hallway, determining whether or not making a run for it was worth the effort. Don't misunderstand, he wasn't a coward by any means, but he was just so _tired _of fighting.

The three young men (whom he never bothered to learn the names of) licked their lips in anticipation, one clenching and unclenching his burly fists. When one of them, one that Ichigo knew to be absolutely ruthless, as he had almost sent the orangette to the emergency room in his sophomore year, took a step forward, Ichigo's feet moved before his brain could contemplate what was happening.

He felt the bag of fast-food, his dinner, drop from his grasp as he bolted down the carpeted hallway. One of his hands went to his back pocket to feel for his room key, the thin piece of plastic a comforting feeling between his fingers as he pulled it out. Ichigo could hear the heavy thuds of the footsteps of the three guys behind him and he picked up his pace.

Room number seven was all the way at the end of the hallway, and Ichigo was just passing the second door.

"'ey, faggot! Slow down, we just wanna talk!" one's jeering laughter echoed down the hallway. It hurt Ichigo's ears as it reverberated off the paint chipped walls and he nearly stumbled over a part in the carpeting. But he could see the door to his room now; he was just passing room number six.

His hands shook and he fumbled with the room key, slamming up against the door as he tried to slide the piece of plastic into the thin slot. A sudden muscle spasm in his fingers had him swearing loudly as the movement caused the key to plummet to the floor. _Of course his RA would act up now of all times. _

Ichigo collapsed to the ground, groping around for the room key, but he knew it was already too late as a foot came into his vision, smashing into the side of his face and snapping his head back as the rest of his body followed, his back hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud and all of his breath leaving him in one gasp.

The one that had kicked him in the face placed the same foot on his chest, simultaneously holding him down and callously cutting off his air supply. But Ichigo had learned a thing or two from being attacked so frequently. Reaching out with both hands, he grabbed the man's thick ankle and foot and twisted, making the other stumble back and swear loudly at the sudden pain.

However, as soon as the pressure on his chest was relieved, a hand fisted in his shirt pulling him upwards onto unsteady feet where he was thrown against the door, one of the man's faces leaning in far too close to his. Ichigo could smell the reek of alcohol and slightly metallic, sweet marijuana, making his stomach churn at the sickening scent. He grabbed the man's wrist with both hands, but the grip on his shirt was like iron.

"Fuckin' homo, ya think you're all that, huh?" the man brought Ichigo forward and then slammed him back up against the motel door, the back of his head taking most of the blow, making his vision swim. He could feel the man press up against him and he thought he would retch what little was in his stomach from the pain and the disgust at the physical contact.

"Ya know, yer kind of pretty, too bad I ain't into gay ass faggots like you."

The other two chuckled darkly, one of them cracking his neck and knuckles. Ichigo narrowed his eyes and gathered up as much saliva in his mouth as he could before spitting at the man holding him's face. Growling, the man wiped the spit off with the back of his hand and kneed Ichigo in the gut, making the orangette groan in distress and nearly double over. Ichigo coughed a little, trying to regain the air he had lost from the blow. He felt completely helpless. He wasn't weak, wasn't afraid, but he knew he couldn't take on the three and win.

What was the point, anyway? Maybe he should just hope that they would take mercy on him and rough him up enough that he died. Then he wouldn't have to live this worthless, miserable life anymore.

"I'd bet ya like that, huh? Ya fuckin' fairy, ya'd love it if I fucked you in tha ass!"The man's laughter was harsh and grating and spiteful. Ichigo closed his eyes against the sound.

He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to be _alive_.

But then there was a loud bang, as if a door had been thrown open and it hit the wall, and the man's laughter was suddenly cut off with a grunted strangling sound. The grip on the front of Ichigo's shirt loosened and he felt himself fall to the ground, his eyes snapping open and his vision suddenly assaulted with blue.

"The_ fuck_ do you think yer doin'?" The newcomer's voice was rough velvet, like nothing Ichigo had ever heard before. It was like the voice of an avenging angel, a savior, _his _savior. As Ichigo's gazed flitted over the man who had interfered, he saw that he physically fit the description too, even from his profile. He was more beautiful than any of the angels that Ichigo had seen in the many holy texts that had been shoved at him in the many attempts to 'save' his soul.

His clothes weren't much, a red plaid flannel shirt that had been left completely unbuttoned to reveal a ripped abdomen and flawless tawny, bronzed skin, and shredded jeans that looked to be stained with oil. Ichigo also noticed that the man's unbelievably blue hair was mussed and he was barefoot and there was a slight flush of dark pink across the man's perfect cheekbones and straight nose, his cyan eyes bright, like he had just awoken from a deep sleep.

This divine being had saved him? _Him? _It had to be some kind of cruel joke.

The angel currently had one hand wrapped around his most vocal attacker's throat and with a quick glance down, Ichigo confirmed that the man's feet were barely touching the ground as he tried to pry at the hand on his neck, but to no avail.

The other two seemed to snap out of their stupor at seeing someone attack their friend with such speed and they simultaneously snarled unimpressively. One went to sucker punch the angel in the back of the head, but with unrivaled grace, he stepped out of the way, throwing the man he had been holding up by the throat to the ground and catching his assailant in the gut with a solid kick, sending him to the floor along with his buddy. Ichigo's jaw dropped at the sight. He had never seen anyone move like that.

Before the other could react, he was lifted off of his feet by the angel's grip on his collar and pulled in so close to that perfect face that Ichigo actually found himself a little jealous.

"The next time I see ya, I won't be so nice, got it?" His voice was low and quiet, but in no means soft. The man in his grip didn't say anything, just stared with wide eyes and when he continued to do just that, Ichigo's eyes dropped to see that the man had wet himself. Apparently, the angel had noticed that too because he laughed loudly and released the man so that he fell on his backside beside his two friends, who were still groaning in agony.

His laughter was a little sadistic, condescending and very beautiful, like the sound of a broken church bell.

But apparently one of them, the one whom had been taunting Ichigo, still didn't understand that he was far outmatched.

"You ain't nothin'," he slurred, getting up onto his hands and knees. But the comment only earned him the angel's foot on the small of his back, slamming him back into the carpeted floor with a loud grunt. The other two scrambled up onto their feet, looking at each other briefly before bolting down the hallway, causing the angel to chuckle dryly.

"Tha' so?" he leaned forward so that his elbow rested on the knee of the leg that was holding the man down. "Ya think beatin' on people 'cause they're different make you_ somethin_'? Huh?"

Ichigo's head swam and he took several deep breaths, unbelieving of what he was seeing. Was his savior really saying what he thought he was saying, the very words that had wanted to spill from his own mouth so many times?

The man didn't answer, mostly because the foot on his back limited his speech and breathing capacity. He just continued to wheeze, his already mottled face turning red.

"Tch, pathetic," the angel sneered, removing his foot from the man's back and giving him one last kick in the ribs before stepping away. He just grunted in pain and rolled over, passing out, the alcohol and whatever else he had consumed that night catching up with him.

"You okay?"

It took Ichigo a minute to realize that his savior was talking to him, but he didn't respond, just stared up at the beautiful blunette with stunned fawn-brown eyes. He vaguely registered that he should say something and his lips parted, but nothing came out. He felt frozen in place just from having those sapphire eyes on him. The angel crouched down so that he was level with Ichigo, a frown daring to mar his divine face, but his eyes were soft as they surveyed the orangette.

"You should probably put somethin' on that," he said and Ichigo felt like his heart would burst forth from his chest as one of his savior's hands reached out to brush along his cheekbone, the skin red from the impact of his attacker's foot and already swelling rapidly. The blunette's fingertips were surprisingly smooth as they slid across Ichigo's cheek and he felt his eyelids flutter a little bit. He may just faint.

"Come on, then," the angel said, shaking his head, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He then wrapped an arm around Ichigo's lithe waist, helping him to his slightly quaking legs. His touch was gentle, and his words were whispered and soft, so unlike what he had just displayed moments ago. Ichigo felt his hands clutch onto the man's opened shirt like it was the only solid thing in the world as he leaned into the other's broader frame. He hadn't been touched in any somewhat comforting way in so long, not since he was a small child and his mother had passed away.

He had been attacked, beaten, so many times, more times than he could count. It was a fact of life for him, something he had grown used to over the years. But never had anyone stood up for him, interfered on his behalf.

No one had ever _saved him_.

They walked through the room adjacent from Ichigo's, which led the smaller man to realize that it _had_ been the door to this room that had been thrown open, obviously when the other had come to his defense just a few minutes ago. It gave him a warm, sweet ache in the center of his chest, completely foreign and yet wonderful.

His savior led him to the queen-sized bed in the motel room that was identical to the one Ichigo had been staying in the past few days. The only difference was there was a collection of empty beer bottles by the small television set and several cigarette buds in the ashtray. The bed's sheets were mussed, one of the pillows resting on the floor right beside the foot of the frame.

Ichigo felt cold as the blunette's arm left his waist as he was sat on the edge of the bed, missing the other's seemingly unnatural warmth and he shivered slightly as he watched the man trod over to the mini-refrigerator that was beside the TV and opened it to retrieve two amber beer bottles, just like the ones that littered the room.

"Sorry, don't have anythin' else, but it should be cold enough," the angel said as he handed one of the bottles to Ichigo. The orangette looked up to the other man with a confused expression written across his face, whose lips twitched upwards into a small smile, giving Ichigo a glimpse of a sharp canine. The man then took the bottle out of Ichigo's hand, pressing it where his tormentor's boot had come into contact with his face. He cocked an eyebrow in amusement as Ichigo flushed with embarrassment.

The heated, inflamed skin immediately felt better as the cold glass was pressed against it and the smaller man automatically sighed in relief, bringing his hand up to hold it on his own. Ichigo felt a modest twinge of disappointment as the angel-faced man pulled away to sit on the only chair the motel provided in the room. There was a moment of silence as he gazed into blue diamond eyes that turned slightly guilty.

"Sorry, I woulda gotten there earlier, but I was sleepin'."

Ichigo felt his jaw drop. His savior had already apologized _twice _and _that_ was unacceptable.

"_Thank you_," he whispered breathily, the quiet of the room making his soft voice reverberate in his ear, his pure gratitude seeping into the two words with all the rapture and desperation of a dying man's prayer. The blunette's eyes widened a little, taken aback by the sincerity in Ichigo's thanks, then his perfect, Cupid's bow mouth thinned into a narrow line, his cyanic eyes turning hard, like they had in the hallway.

"Tha' happens a lot, huh?" he asked, his voice sounding a little strained. Ichigo flinched a little, his gaze then dropping to the ground, a little ashamed of his answer as he nodded.

"Why? Just 'cause yer-"

"Just because I'm gay."

The resentment and bitterness and unfiltered hatred in Ichigo's voice surprised even him. He shifted a little on the edge of the bed, feeling a little uncomfortable as he looked back up to see the other man staring at him with an intense expression, as if he was trying to see straight into his soul. It was terrifying…and breathtaking.

No one had ever made him feel like this, and he had known this man for about ten minutes. Granted, it had been a pretty eventful ten minutes.

"Christ, kid…," the blunette scrubbed a hand over his beautiful face, as if trying to find the right words. "I'm-"

"Don't," Ichigo demanded. "Don't say you're sorry."

The other man's left, thin, blue eyebrow rose a little, but after a second he nodded firmly and for that Ichigo was grateful. His savior seemed to understand what he meant. That he was the only person that should never have to say he was sorry to Ichigo. Another moment of silence passed.

"Ya hungry?" the blunette asked suddenly, rising from his chair to walk back over to the mini-fridge. Ichigo was about to protest when his stomach seemed to speak for him, grumbling loudly. He actually hadn't had a decent meal in a while, and the food he had dropped on the ground in the hallway had been the only thing he could afford to buy that day…

The other man chuckled a little and withdrew what looked like a Chinese take-out box, opening it and sniffing it a bit, before passing it over to Ichigo, the scent of what seemed to be chicken lo-mein wafting out of the box. It smelled _so good_.

"You can have tha' or-"

But Ichigo was already tipping the box back, the contents of cold noodles and chicken spilling into his mouth. He made a pleasured sound as he chewed eagerly on the delicious food. He had forgotten just how good take-out could be…

"Jesus kid, I was gonna offer ta warm it up first," his savior said, tone dripping with mirth. Ichigo paused mid-chew, lowering the box of now half-eaten lo-mein to his lap and slurping up a noodle that was dangling from his lips. A blossom pink flush spread across the crest of his nose and cheekbones as embarrassment set in. The other man just shook his head a bit at the younger's actions, a grin crossing his face allowing Ichigo to view a perfect set of phosphorescently white, sharp teeth.

"Sorry," Ichigo mumbled, looking back up at the angel from underneath dark lashes.

"'Ey, if I'm not allowed to say tha', neither are you," his savior said seriously, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. Despite himself, Ichigo grinned a little at the gorgeous man, feeling a flutter somewhere in his abdomen. _What was that? _

The other then took the take-out box from his hands, their skin brushing ever so slightly, popping it into the portable microwave that sat on top of the miniature refrigerator. He punched in the numbers and then uncapped the beer that he still had in his hands with his teeth, spitting the metal cap out and onto the floor. Ichigo's eyes widened a little at the action, he had only ever seen people do that on television.

Ichigo fisted the material of his jeans, looking around the room and feeling the slightest bit awkward. This strange blue-haired (beautiful) man was practically a stranger to him, and here he was sitting in a motel room with him. He wondered if the blunette made it a habit to go rescuing damsels in distress like himself, or why the man was here in the first place. No one visited this bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere to vacation there.

Hah, maybe this divine creature was his guardian angel or something, wouldn't that just be hilarious?

Once the microwave beeped its announcement that the food was done, Ichigo was handed the half-empty take-out box once again, along with a plastic fork and, surprisingly, a can of diet soda. At his questioning glance, the other man just replied "Ya don't look like the drinkin' type."

But as his angel-face savior sat down in the chair once more, taking a long pull on the bottle of beer in his large hand, Ichigo could only stare down at the food and the soda. He felt that the bottle he was still holding to his face was as cold as ever, effectively numbing the pain.

"Aren't ya gonna eat? Ya seemed to be pretty hungry a minute ago," the other questioned, cocking an eyebrow. Ichigo lifted his toffee-flavored eyes to meet pools of warm blue ocean water, which narrowed as the man frowned. The orangette still said nothing as the man rose once more from his seat, muttering something about a 'concussion'.

The angel approached him, hands slightly raised in front of him and eyes still locked onto his. Ichigo felt fragile at that moment, and he didn't really know why, but he knew that if the other touched him, let him feel something he never had before, he would fall to pieces.

"_Why_?" he asked, his voice hoarse and thick. He felt the familiar sting of tears behind his eyes, making his mocha orbs look wet and innocent and delicate, all the things they weren't supposed to be. He had never been quite so _undone _before.

"Why what?"

"Why did you help me? Why did you-" Ichigo broke off to gesture at the bottle in his hand, the food in his lap. "Do all of this?" he finished. In return, his savior just smiled slightly, sadly, softly.

"I can't answer tha' until ya tell me one thing," he said. Ichigo nodded once in affirmation. The other didn't need to know that he would already do _anything_ for him.

"How do ya know yer gay?"

Ichigo's brow furrowed in confusion, different emotions flitting through him. He opened his mouth to say something, only to be met with silence when he realized he didn't have anything to say. He wanted to look away from that questioning forever blue gaze but couldn't bring himself to.

"Have ya ever even kissed anyone before?"

For some reason he still couldn't fathom, Ichigo found himself unable to lie, so he just shook his head slowly, very, _very_ aware that his savior was slowly coming ever so closer, his large hands on either side of his legs, splaying against the ghastly motel bedspread.

It was the truth, being the only man around for miles that was able to openly admit he was anything other than completely and utterly heterosexual had put a damper on Ichigo's romantic life. The only thing he had to go on whether or not he was attracted to males was the fact that it wasn't visions of soft, supple, womanly flesh that kept him awake at night, but rather taut, bronzed skin laying exquisitely over defined and broad muscles, like what was being displayed directly before him by the other man's still open shirt.

The blunette gently pulled Ichigo's hand away from his face, along with the beer bottle, and brushed his fingertips along the now chilled, but still slightly swollen flesh there. Ichigo was unable to contain his pleasured shudder as it ripped through him.

No one had _ever _touched him like this.

It was like something from a dream and it made Ichigo wary that he might soon wake to find that none of this had been real. And if that were to happen, he may just never recover.

But maybe he had finally snapped, his mind conjuring up visions of something he needed more than anything else. Maybe he was actually strapped up in a straightjacket somewhere, his eyes unseeing as the only reality lived on inside of his mind. If that was so, Ichigo never wanted to return to sanity, not ever.

"So, then how do ya know?" the other man's breath, cool and peppermint-scented, ran across Ichigo's face, fanning over each and every nearly invisible freckle that lay on his nose and cheekbones.

"I…I," Ichigo's voice sounded more like he was choking, gasping. He could barely form a coherent thought as the most beautiful face he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes upon came even closer to his. It was almost too much and he felt his eyelids become heavy, like he was in a daze, hypnotized by the sweet colors of blue and bronzed skin.

The hand that had been on his cheek swept over to lay a thumb against his bottom lip, the pad brushing over the pink flesh. Ichigo felt his heart start to beat wildly, so hard and fast that he felt like it may give out at any moment.

"Hush," his savior whispered against his lips and then his eyes fell completely closed, and then…

And then the only pair of perfect lips that he would ever kiss were upon his own, barely there and they were soft and rough and scary and beautiful and amazing. It wasn't enough, that gentle touch and Ichigo then found himself pressing back with his own with all of the force he could gather in his compromised state, lifting his hands up to grip turquoise locks and hold the only ever person whom had ever made him feel like this even closer.

Broad, warm hands cupped his chin and then they slid down, one to the back of his neck and the other the small of his back. Ichigo had never felt like this, cherished, wanted, on fire, and when he felt a slick muscle lick at his lips for entrance, he didn't hesitate to part them. His angel savior tasted like peppermint and the rain and something he didn't have a name for.

It didn't occur to Ichigo that this was his first kiss and he barely knew what he was doing. It didn't matter, not at all. His tongue intertwined with the other man's, nearly pulling back when he felt a bit of cold metal before he realized it was a tongue piercing, which he had never thought could be so _hot _until that second. The blunette seemed to know what he was doing and mapped every inch of Ichigo's wet orifice with his tongue almost hungrily, but it was he who pulled back, gasping for air after what like forever and yet not nearly long enough.

Ichigo panted, opening his eyes and being engulfed by his savior's pure blue irises; it seemed that even the now dilated pupils were a deep navy rather than black. The other rested his forehead against his, their breath mixing together as they both gasped for air. It was the most intimate moment Ichigo had ever had and after a few moments of the only sound being their panting, the blunette spoke, his mouth quirking into an amused grin.

"Well, now ya know," he said softly, his thumb coming back up to trace over Ichigo's now kiss-swollen lips and somehow the orangette knew that he was answering both his own question and the one Ichigo had asked. He felt his heart do a back-flip in his chest at the realization. "Wha's yer name?" his savior questioned and Ichigo smiled slightly, a dry, quiet laugh escaping his lips.

"Ichigo," he said.

"_Ichigo_," his angel savior spoke the name like it was another language, a smirk appearing on his face. "I'm Grimmjow."

And then Ichigo knew the name of his avenging angel, his own personal piece of salvation.

_Grimmjow_.

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><p>As they say, and the rest was history. Ichigo fell for Grimmjow terrifyingly fast, if he hadn't already the first time he had ever laid eyes on the man. But he didn't doubt that his feelings were reciprocated. It was so cliché and strange and maybe a little sad, but they were all the other had in the entire world.<p>

He learned soon after that first, fateful meeting that Grimmjow had actually grown up in the city, orphaned at a young age and he strayed onto the wayward path before he was even a teenager. He joined a gang, beat people up for money, rose in the ranks just by staying alive and being smarter than average. By the time he wanted out, wanted a normal life where he didn't have to worry about the several hits that were out on him and pleasing his superiors, he had become irreplaceable in the syndicate and was therefore forbidden to leave. So he left, obviously, traveled to the pitifully small towns on the outskirts, until he got Hanging Dog and then ran out of money.

Ichigo moved in with Grimmjow into the motel room the very next day after they met. A little rash, yes, but they both needed to save the money by only paying one fare. As an unknown man with blue hair, Grimmjow garnered a lot of attention whenever they went into the small town, especially together. Everyone learned not to mess with him, or Ichigo for that matter, when some guy asked if he knew that Ichigo was a faggot and would probably spread his legs for any man in the place and then ended up on the floor with a broken jaw, the blunette breathing fire above him. Another patron in the restaurant they had been in at the time had been impressed and offered Grimmjow a position at the steel mill, based on brute strength alone.

Two months after they had first met, Ichigo and Grimmjow were able to rent out a nice, but awfully small one-bedroom house on the outskirts of town. A month after that, Ichigo had landed a job at the same steel mill where Grimmjow worked, in the offices doing secretarial work (not that he was in the lobby, of course, because then people could see that the company had a _gay _working for them.)

Four years of mounting debt due to their pitiful income, glares and taunts from the townspeople that tried to run them out or 'save' them every chance they got, and Ichigo's worsening rheumatoid arthritis in his hands later and they were still together, in that small house in the same small town.

There were things Ichigo would change, his condition for one as it had just caused him to lose probably the only job he would ever be able to get, and the fact that because Grimmjow was _his boyfriend _the man would only ever be able to work as a steel mill physical laborer despite his potential, and that they were always constantly worrying about being evicted or having their water shut off and going without food for a couple of days (which would now be even worse considering Ichigo was now walking home with his pink slip.)

But…Ichigo wouldn't a change a thing if it meant not being with Grimmjow. The man had saved him, both literally and figuratively, and that was something he would never forget as long as he lived.

Ichigo walked along the path to their house, shivering a little inside his warm jacket, the chilled air whipping across his face and he pulled his hood up with shaking hands. He clasped his hands together, feeling the soft texture of the costly, lined gloves Grimmjow had insisted they buy for him as the cold made his RA ten times worse. He had protested at first, but had given up after his boyfriend had refused to back down. He wouldn't deny that he was grateful though, that someone in this world cared about him enough to skip breakfast a few days in a row to make sure that his hands wouldn't ice over.

He jogged up the steps to the tiny porch of their house, pulling out his key to let himself inside. He wanted nothing more than to go take a nice, warm bath and perhaps nap for once in his life before Grimmjow came home and he had to tell him the news that he had lost his job.

Holding his key to the doorknob, he tried to fit the small metal key into the thin slot, already frustrated when he kept missing because his hands were shaking too badly. Cursing under his breath as the muscles in his hands cramped and pain shot up his arms as he tried to force his fingers and thumbs to work properly. However, he became a little overzealous in his frustration and the metal slid on the slick fabric of his gloves and the key clattered to the ground, slipping in between the wooden slats of the porch.

Letting out a little huff of disbelief that crystallized in the cold air, Ichigo dropped to his knees, trying to see underneath the wooden slats for the key. But it was of no use, it was too dark under the porch and he had no flashlight. He briefly wondered if he could crawl under the porch to grab the key, but then he remembered the thing was built into the foundation and was solid cement on all sides.

The wind blew at him from the north, pushing his hood back and revealing bright tangerine hair that had grown too long as Grimmjow was awful at cutting anybody else's hair but his own and Ichigo could no longer hold scissors properly. The burst of wind seemed to make the day colder and he shuddered, sitting back onto his heels and reaching for his phone.

But who would he call? He didn't know anyone that would actually come and help him except for Grimmjow, and he _couldn't_ call him. He couldn't be any more of a burden than he already was.

Sighing heavily, Ichigo leaned his head against the doorframe and stretched his legs out in front of him. He felt so tired, he had been barely getting five hours of sleep ever since he had started working for the steel mill, as the owner liked for him to come in early and leave late so that no 'disturbances' would happen, not to mention it seemed he liked to squeeze all of the work he could out of the orangette as he could for the least amount of money. Perhaps that had been the man's incentive to hire him in the first place.

Closing his eyes, he tucked his jacket closer to him, letting blessed unconsciousness fall over his mind like a soft blanket.

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><p>"<em>Ichigo!"<em>

It must have been several hours later that Ichigo opened his eyes as his vision was bleary and there was an unpleasant film in his mouth. He felt frozen stiff, his joints aching as he moved the slightest bit and then he became aware of the fact that there was something on his face.

Blinking his eyes a few times, blue swam into his vision and then he realized that the something on his face were two gloved hands on either side, the thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.

"Grimmjow?" he croaked as his boyfriend's face, still perfect and beautiful after all these years finally came into focus, his sapphire eyes wild.

"Shit," the bigger man breathed. "Ya had me fuckin' scared to death, ya know that? Why tha hell are you on the porch, did somethin' happen?"

Ichigo's now numb lips spread into a small smile. After all these years and Grimmjow was still so concerned, he never expected that would change, either.

"Key," he said, leaning into Grimmjow, who was kneeling over him, a foot on either side of his legs. He sighed in relief as his face hit the skin of his boyfriend's exposed neck. For some reason, Grimmjow was always warm, like a human furnace.

"Ya lost it?" Grimmjow's confused, husky voice made his chest vibrate against Ichigo's, the latter loving the feeling.

"No, dropped it. Fell under the porch," Ichigo answered, his voice gaining an edge to it as he remembered just how he had dropped it and why he had been home so early in the first place. He pulled back to look at Grimmjow when the man didn't say anything only to see blue eyes looking at him with sadness in the aquatic depths.

He hated that look.

"Why didn't ya call me?" Grimmjow asked, brow furrowing.

"'S okay, I've only been here twenty minutes and I knew you were coming home soon," Ichigo lied, ineffectively it would seem as the blunette cocked an eyebrow at him. He sighed, giving up. "I didn't want to bother you."

Grimmjow just shook his head; something he'd never stopped doing in response to Ichigo's antics ever since they had first met. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, one around his shoulders and the other underneath his knees and stood slowly. Ichigo frowned heavily, glaring up at his boyfriend with agitated toffee eyes.

"Come on, ya know ya like it," Grimmjow teased, unlocking the door with ease and carrying Ichigo over the threshold bridal style, where he set him down on his feet, moving to the kitchen. Ichigo walked over to the leather, plush loveseat that was their only piece of furniture in the living room besides the television set and floor lamp and flopped down in it, his stiff joints protesting at the movement but then relaxing as he reclined into the comfortable seat.

Grimmjow came back into the room, now coat, hat, and glove-less. He was holding a very familiar white tube in one of his hands and Ichigo groaned at the sight of it, causing his boyfriend to smirk as he sat next to him, his broader frame taking up the rest of the space on the love seat.

"Stop whinin', ya know it makes ya feel better," Grimmjow teased, taking Ichigo's hands into his own as he pulled off the younger man's gloves. He inhaled sharply when Ichigo's knuckles, bright red and swollen, were revealed.

"But it smells so _bad_," Ichigo whined, determined to lighten the mood. It didn't work however, as Grimmjow popped open the cap on the tube and then worked the fragrant salve into Ichigo's hands, rubbing the substance in gently. It was such an odd sight, seeing Grimmjow's hands, large and broad and tanned, with calluses and scars from all the years of steel mill work, doing something so tender.

Ichigo sighed in relief, mostly for Grimmjow's benefit, as the salve's numbing agent started to work and he flexed his fingers a few times, fighting the urge to wince as pain shot up his arms. He let out a shaky breath, burrowing his head once more into the crook of Grimmjow's neck, placing a soft kiss on the smooth skin there. Sometimes when he was feeling especially down, this was the only thing that made him feel better. Well, that and _other _things.

Grimmjow, somehow sensing his disheartened mood, threaded his fingers through Ichigo's tangerine shoulder-length locks, resting his chin on the top of his boyfriend's head. Ichigo nearly purred at the feeling of Grimmjow's hand in his hair, he loved it when he did that. It almost seemed that they could forget everything if they just stayed like that forever. Ichigo was willing to try.

"I'll get ya out of tha' office soon, then ya can go to school like ya've been wanting ta," Grimmjow murmured against Ichigo's hair. The orangette had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at his love's idealistic talk and swallow past the knot that had formed in his throat at the words. He didn't know what he had ever done to deserve someone like Grimmjow, but he was damn grateful.

Determined to get it over and done with, Ichigo pulled back from Grimmjow's warm embrace to give a small, sad smile to the blunette. The look in his caramel-coffee eyes apparently alerted the other man to the fact that something was amiss, leading him to frown in confusion and apprehension, wrinkles appearing on Grimmjow's normally flawless forehead. Ichigo reached out to brush the few strands of turquoise hair that had fallen out of place per usual and smoothed slightly trembling fingers over the lines.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that now," he whispered, biting down on his lower lip. Grimmjow's frown deepened.

"And why's that?"

"I got laid off today," Ichigo answered simply, dropping his gaze and his hands to his lap as a wave of shame crashed over him. "Said my typing was too slow now and that no one could read my handwriting."

Silence sat heavily in the air for a few moments, before Ichigo looked back up to see that Grimmjow was no longer looking at him, but to the side, fists clenched on his knees so tightly that Ichigo could see the veins in his boyfriend's wrists straining against the skin.

"God_damnit_," he swore under his breath, making Ichigo feel positively suffocated as the guilt pressed down on him. It was all of his fault that now they would be struggling more than ever now, as they had been barely getting by before and now their income was cut in half.

"I'll find something else, I promise," Ichigo tried to convince himself just as much, if not even more so, as Grimmjow. His tone was on the verge of desperation and he reached forward to clutch onto the blunette's work shirt, subconsciously pulling him closer. "_I'm sorry_."

Before he could even register that the words had come out of his mouth, Grimmjow's hand seized his chin in a blurred movement, forcing the smaller man to look up into eyes that were terrifyingly blue. A million different emotions flitted about in their depths and it made Ichigo dizzy, but he didn't dare try to pull away. He didn't want to.

"Wha's the rule about apologies in this house?" Grimmjow's voice was low and stern, like a father reprimanding his child. It made Ichigo shiver involuntarily. Seriously, it should be a sin, what his lover's voice alone did to him, even after all these years. Despite the fact that the man still had a tight grip on his chin, Ichigo grinned, reciting the words that had become law in their relationship in the past four years.

"If I say sorry, you'll give me something to be sorry for."

"Hn. That's right," Grimmjow smirked, the expression like black on satin, like red on velvet. Meant to be. "But tha's fer _later_."

His boyfriend loosened his hold, giving a pat to the side of Ichigo's face, but then the light-hearted moment was over as reality sunk in once more. The reprieve never lasted long anyway. A minute passed before Grimmjow spoke.

"Maybe I should go-"

"No," Ichigo said firmly, effectively cutting off the nonsense that Grimmjow had been about to say. The idea of him leaving Ichigo to back to the city, work his way back to his old position and send the orangette money from there. And it wasn't even the fact that he would be alone once more that made Ichigo so opposed to the idea, it was that the mere thought of Grimmjow being in peril, in danger that made him sick to his stomach. That was why the man had left the city in the first place, to get away from all of that. The notion that his savior would give up his relatively peaceful life for one filled with gunshots and blood and death and for _him _had Ichigo feeling faint every time he thought on it.

"Grimm," his voice sounded unsure, fragile, and he hated it, but the man in front of him was the only one who would ever see him like this, ever. "What are we going to _do_?"

Grimmjow leaned forward, closing the small space between them so that their foreheads touched and brought his warm, broad hands to rest on Ichigo's upper arms, thumbs moving in soothing circles.

"Well, we can't pay our bills, everyone in this godforsaken town hates us, and yer RA's getting's worse by the day…" he trailed off, leaving Ichigo to blink up at him with confused toffee eyes, until unexpectedly, Grimmjow's lips pressed against his in a way that was familiar and still made his heart beat violently. After a few seconds, the blunette pulled away, breathing his next words against Ichigo's mouth. "But I love you in a way that is soul-sucking and undying and illegal in twenty states…so let's make this work, yeah?"

Ichigo could only nod, not really trusting his voice after the uncharacteristic, impassioned confession from his lover. Grimmjow just smiled, his diamond blue eyes gleaming with a bit of amusement and what Ichigo had come to realize was something he had never expected to look at him with. Love.

"Now, go put on something nice," Grimmjow leered, winking once before letting his hand slide down Ichigo's back to give him a firm slap on the rear, making the smaller man jolt in surprise, narrowing now suspicious fawn-brown eyes at the blue-haired man. Obviously Grimmjow had just had some sort of idea…

"Why?" he asked, leaning away from the now manic look in his boyfriend's eyes.

"I'm takin' ya out to dinner."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Yeah…so this idea has been fermenting in my mind for weeks now, and I've really been wanting to write it. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but turned into a monstrous one, and now it's a short story, **meaning like four or five chapters. **Ah, thanks for sticking with me while I try to get out of my writing slump. AND YES, the good part is in the next chapter. :)

Well, hope you guys liked this one and thank you for reading! I just realized I always make Grimmjow such a hero in my writing…eh, what can I say? I love him as one. :D

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. I also hope I didn't offend anyone with the crass language and attitude towards gay people in this, but it's a fact of life, yeah? :( Also, not all people in small towns are mean and hate gay men and women. I didn't mean to give anyone that impression either, it just worked for this little story. Ah, and I do not have RA nor do I know anyone with the condition, so my apologies if I didn't portray it correctly.

Oh, and I figured I may have to put this in here for anyone unfamiliar with the term.

_Blue Collar: _a term we use here in the United States to refer to a person who does physical labor for minimum wage. We also use this to refer to places or things that such people may associate with. Sometimes it's used as a degrading term, as it usually means the person is underprivileged and uncultured and therefore not worthwhile. It's different from the Japanese term "Blue-collar worker".

Quote is from the song "Without You, I'm Nothing" by Placebo, which is an incredible song that you should all go listen to right now.


	2. Rapture

**Blue Collar II **

**Rapture**

* * *

><p><em>Thorns and stings<em>

_And those such things_

_Just make stronger_

_Our angel wings._

* * *

><p>"Dinner," he deadpanned, raising one orange eyebrow at his lover whom returned the favor with a cocky grin. The same grin that Ichigo had fallen in love with four and a half years ago.<p>

"Wha's the matter, Ichi? Ya don't wanna go on a date with me?" Grimmjow asked teasingly, following Ichigo's movements and placing a hand on either side of the smaller man, making the latter frown. Why was Grimmjow acting so...so _normal _ after he had just told the man he had lost his job?

"No, that's not it," Ichigo affirmed, looking into his lover's eyes that were every shade of blue in the universe, searching for any sign that Grimmjow wasn't being forthright, wasn't being genuine. There was nothing but love, and it crushed Ichigo's heart just a little bit, adding onto the weight of guilt already hard-pressing the tender muscle. "It's just...we can't afford that," he finished, steeling himself for whatever reaction Grimmjow may have; anger, frustration...sorrow. He didn't know if he could deal with the last one.

"So we'll order water and skip dessert," Grimmjow shrugged, his grin never faltering. Apparently he had been expecting that Ichigo would say something to that effect.

"But...we can't go anywhere in this town. They'll assemble the mob, pitchforks and everything," Ichigo rolled his eyes, bitterness seeping into his tone, causing the blunette half-leaning on him to chuckle, the vibration of his chest a comforting feeling to the younger man. He felt Grimmjow take a hold of his hands and watched him brush them against his lovely lips, chapped a little from the cold weather. It made the pain dissipate faster than any medicine ever had.

"We'll go to the next town over, find somewhere there," Grimmjow murmured against Ichigo's palms, raising bluer than blue eyes to meet toffee brown. The orangette pulled his hands away just a little bit, breaking free of Grimmjow's grasp so that he could run them gently through surprisingly soft turquoise strands of hair.

Maybe they needed this, something lighthearted, something most couples in the world got a chance to do. It was almost funny how they had been together for four and a half years and yet never once had they been on an actual _date_.

Ichigo could feel his usual scowl softening and then transforming into a gentle smile.

"I'll go put on my _formal _jeans, then."

* * *

><p>Not ten minutes later, Ichigo was climbing into the practically ancient, powder blue 1964 Chevrolet C10, swinging the door shut after him. The pick-up truck was an inch or so away from completely falling apart, but Grimmjow insisted it was a classic and he loved the thing to death, worn out leather seats and all. Ichigo couldn't fault him for it, though, the old Chevy certainly had character and it perfectly suited Grimmjow with its rough exterior and light blue paint.<p>

Wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck against the bitter cold as the car had no heating, Ichigo watched as Grimmjow jumped into the driver's side, rubbing his gloved hands together before turning the key in the ignition. The ancient truck sputtered to life, the engine giving a deep wild-cat roar as Grimmjow pulled away from where they had been parked in their small house's driveway.

Since the radio had long since stopped working, there was silence as Ichigo stared out of the window to the gray clouds in the sky that seemed to have grown darker in the time since he had left the steel mill that day. It looked like it would snow that night and the thought of that blessed white stuff made him sigh in content, he had always loved the snow.

They turned onto the main road of Hanging Dog, passing by the small shops that made up the small center of the town. There were off-white lights hanging from the various buildings, wreaths and red bows and nativity scenes decorating the doors and windows of the storefronts. It was too picturesque to be true, the beautiful scene masking all of the hate and disdain the town held for them.

Ichigo sighed and lowered his eyes to his lap, the decorations reminding him that this year would hold another Christmas without exchanging gifts.

Once they passed through the pitifully small town and got onto the road that would lead them to the next town over, Grimmjow picked up speed, the evergreen trees that lined the two-lane road flying by them and the truck's ancient engine purring the only sound in the comfortable silence.

Ichigo found his head leaning against the window, eyes drifting closed as the soothing vibrations of the car lulled him into a relaxed state. He would just close his eyes for just a minute, that day had been a very long one to say the least and he was tired, despite the nap he had taken on the porch earlier that day.

Just one minute wouldn't hurt...

* * *

><p>Ichigo was startled out of unconsciousness when he felt a soft brush of warm air against the part of his neck that was left exposed by his scarf, sending a shiver down his entire body. Eyes snapping open, he nearly jumped a foot in the air and let loose a little yelp, only to be met with a low chuckle.<p>

Toffee eyes cornered to see bright blue sparkling with mirth. It seemed that Grimmjow found it funny to wake him by breathing on his neck in a very, very creepy and annoying way that was not sexy at all.

Okay, maybe it was a _little _sexy.

"Jesus Christ, Grimmjow," Ichigo dropped his usual nickname for the man in his slight irritation at being awoken like such. His left hand swung out to bat at his lover's chest, ignoring the dull pain that shot up his arm at the movement. "Can't you just wake me up like a normal person?"

"Not when you react like that," Grimmjow retorted, giving a broad, sadistic smile while rubbing the part of his chest that Ichigo had hit. The orangette narrowed his eyes, scowling at the other man and huffing in disbelief and annoyance before opening the truck's door and letting himself out, pointedly ignoring Grimmjow's barking laugh.

It was like the man lived to tease him.

Folding his arms and huddling further into his jacket for reprieve from the bitter winter air, Ichigo surveyed the place that Grimmjow had chosen to bring them to.

It was a typical diner-like place, with faded pastel decor and large, cushiony booths from what he could see through the glass windows that lined the front of the restaurant. Multi-colored holiday lights covered every available surface and Ichigo could hear the faint tune of "White Christmas" playing inside, making him smile. That song had always been his favorite.

Quickly scanning the people inside, all he saw were an elderly couple, a group of men at the eat-in bar, and a few waitresses.

Perfect.

Maybe some people needed to live it up at places where you can't pronounce the food and the wine list is longer than the menu and the food itself comes in portions too small for any normal human being, but this, this was what Ichigo needed. A completely normal, safe place to eat with his lover. It was heaven.

He felt, rather than heard, Grimmjow come up behind him, laying one hand right below the nape of his neck. Inwardly, Ichigo smirked. Just another reason why they could barely go out in public together was because the blunette could never seem to keep his hands to himself.

They walked into the diner together, Grimmjow's hand dropping to his side as the hostess turned around to greet them. That was alright though, they had to play it safe, play it straight. Ichigo knew that he would never be embarrassed of being Grimmjow's lover, and vice versa, but... people were cruel.

"Why, hello there! You all don't look familiar," the hostess, a busty young woman with maroon, chin-length hair, greeted them. Grimmjow just grunted in response.

"Two, please," Ichigo said, trying not to scowl in order to compensate for his boyfriend's rather rude behavior. The hostess smiled coyly and grabbed two large menus from beside the stand.

"Right this way," she gestured with the menus, leading them to a booth in the far right corner of the restaurant, womanly hips obviously swaying as she walked in front of them in an blatantly obvious way. Feeling uncomfortable, Ichigo averted his eyes from the woman until they were seated and she left with a "Your server will be right with you."

Sighing in mild relief, he unwound the scarf from around his neck and slid off his jacket, placing them on the bench next to him. However, before he could start to take off his gloves, larger hands covered his own, peeling off the leather fabric and revealing his hands, wound with white gauze to help set the salve from earlier.

Brow furrowed, he looked up to see Grimmjow holding his gloves in hand, an uncharacteristically somber expression on his handsome face. Ichigo knew he meant well, really, he did, but sometimes the blunette's concern overwhelmed him.

"I could have done it myself," he muttered, placing his hands in his lap.

"I know," Grimmjow said softly, placing the gloves on top of his own coat. And that was when Ichigo saw it happen, the lights in his lover's normally starry eyes black out, leaving in their wake listless, dull blue irises.

He hated when this happened.

His dark, warm eyes softened before they darted around the diner to see if anyone was looking their way. Once he confirmed that no one was, he reached out and gave Grimmjow's hand a light squeeze before snatching it back, feeling the slight ache in his fingers from even that small action.

The other man opened his mouth like he was going to say something but closed it as a figure suddenly appeared at the edge of the table. Ichigo turned his head to immediately be assaulted by the vision of a woman's large bust nearly spilling out of her uniform, causing his eyes to nearly pop out of his head and a faint blush to spread over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose.

"Can I get you all something to drink?"

Ichigo looked up to see that attached to the set of breasts was a tall, statuesque woman with long, strawberry-blonde hair, full lips, and a simpering gaze that she currently had trained on the two men sitting at the table. He heard Grimmjow clear his throat, before stating "Just water fer now."

"And for you, sugar?" she questioned Ichigo, pursing her lips.

"I-I'll have water too...please," he stammered, trying to look everywhere but her nearly exposed chest.

"Sure thing, I'll be right back," the waitress winked once and then sauntered off, presumably to get their glasses of order. Ichigo picked his menu off of the table flipping it open and finding typical diner fare on the list. It had been an awfully long time since he had, had a hamburger and he found himself salivating at the mere thought of it.

"Ichigo."

Raising one orange eyebrow, he looked over his menu at Grimmjow, whose somber expression hadn't faded one bit. Ichigo felt concern well up in his chest and he lowered the menu to the table, leaning forward. After four and a half years with the blue-haired man, he had definitely learned to recognize when something was bothering him. It was like the light behind those electrically neon blue eyes had been shut off, leaving alarmingly reflective, empty orbs behind, their depth gone.

But the cold, distant and detached temperament that was sure to follow was even more disturbing. It happened every time something deeply upset Grimmjow, like when the health insurance company wouldn't cover the cost of Ichigo's RA treatment, or like when he got those rare phone calls in the middle of the night that Ichigo pretended not to overhear.

Ichigo had pointed this out once, the strange way that his lover always shut down for a day or so, but Grimmjow just acted like he didn't know what he was talking about. The orangette suspected that it was some sort of defense mechanism from his violent past, emotionally detaching himself so that he didn't have to feel pain or sadness, didn't have to feel anything.

It scared him.

"What is it, Grimm?" Ichigo questioned, brushing his foot against his lover's denim-covered calf under the table in a gesture of affection, one that no one else could see. He couldn't afford to lose Grimmjow for the next day or two, not when everything was already so terribly messed up.

"Ichigo, I-"

"Two waters," a husky yet cheerful feminine voice broke off whatever Grimmjow had been about to say, and Ichigo turned a fierce glare onto the waitress, who seemed not to notice as she set two glasses of water onto the table, along with two amber bottles. "And two domestics, on the house." She gave a saucy wink and pulled out her notepad. "Now, what would you boys care to eat?"

Swallowing his first response down, Ichigo handed her the menu and grit out "Hamburger, well done." The waitress raised an eyebrow but nodded and wrote it down on her notepad, turning to Grimmjow with a smile that would have sent any straight man to their knees.

"Same," he said listlessly, sliding the menu towards her. Her smile falling into a pout, she grabbed it and flounced away, obviously miffed that she hadn't garnered a reaction from either of the attractive men at the table. Once she was safely out of earshot, Ichigo turned back to Grimmjow whose gaze had fallen to the table.

"You were going to say something," he reminded quietly, and the blunette looked up to him with what Ichigo thought must have been the saddest eyes he had ever seen. Despite Grimmjow's gruff appearance and personality, his eyes were the most expressive Ichigo had ever seen, and the most beautiful. And right now, they looked hopeless, empty.

"We can't live like this anymore."

Ichigo's heart stopped, and then cracked into a million little pieces. He felt his eyes widen and his hands grip the edge of the cushioned bench despite the ache in his wrists and knuckles when he did.

"Y-you want to...leave?"

He could've cursed himself for sounding so pitiful, so weak and fragile, his voice nothing more than a strained whisper.

"Yes," Grimmjow answered, nodding once. Ichigo physically recoiled from the affirmation, flinching and hunching his shoulders. It was then that a spark of life flickered in Grimmjow's eyes as they expanded and in an impulsive, almost desperate movement the man grabbed for one of Ichigo's hands under the table. The contact sending the orangette's heart from catatonic into overdrive. "No! I mean, yes. Ah, fuck..."

Grimmjow looked down and muttered something under his breath that was too low for Ichigo to hear, loosening his grip on the boy's hand.

"Wha' I meant was; let's leave...together."

Ichigo let out a long, shaky sigh of relief and something he had no name for and then promptly kicked Grimmjow in the shin, hard, who immediately let go of Ichigo's hand to reach for his injured leg, biting his lip to keep from swearing loudly. The orangette's kicks were positively vicious.

"Idiot, don't say shit like that," Ichigo whispered harshly, folding his arms.

"Sorry," Grimmjow said petulantly, letting go of his leg and averting his gaze to look out the window, a frown marring his perfect profile in all the right ways. "But ya should've known better than to think I would ever leave you."

Ichigo's scowl fell into a soft, almost sad smile. Grimmjow had a point, after all. They were both completely confident in the fact that they were all the other had in the entire world. No friends, no family, just each other.

"Well, then what are you talking about? Why would we leave?" he questioned, but once again, before Grimmjow could answer, the waitress from before chose to make an appearance.

"Two hamburgers, well done," she announced tonelessly, nearly dropping the plates on to the table before turning on her heel and walking away. If Ichigo wasn't anxious to hear what Grimmjow had to say, he would've snickered at her obvious resignation to the fact that neither of them would pay her any attention.

He looked to his plate, finding it satisfyingly piled with greasy fries and a rather large hamburger with all the trimmings. Licking his lips, he grabbed the burger, almost completely forgetting about the conversation he had been having with Grimmjow, and bit into it heartily. A small sound of pleasure escaped him, but feeling eyes on him, he looked up from the delicious thing to see his lover looking at him with blue eyes full of amusement, which was so much better than the dull look they had to them just minutes before.

"What?" Ichigo asked around a second bite of his burger. Grimmjow's lips twitched before they spread into a full-on smirk, a smirk that no one could pull off but Grimmjow.

"Nothing, I just love to see you with your mouth full of meat," the blunette answered, picking up a fry off of his plate and popping it into his mouth. Ichigo's coffee-colored eyes widened and he looked around just to make sure no one had heard, then he turned back to Grimmjow, delivering another swift under the table to both of the man's shins. His boyfriend cried out in pain, clutching onto both legs this time.

"Fuck, Ichi, why do ya have to be so cruel?" he pouted childishly.

"Why do you have to be such a pervert?" Ichigo quipped, reaching past his water for the beer bottle beside it and taking a deep pull off of it.

"Tch," Grimmjow scoffed and went to eating his own meal, scarfing the hamburger down in ravenous bites, his sharper than normal canines ripping through the thing like it was nothing. Ichigo grinned at the sight; the man always did eat like a beast...

Halfway through his burger, Ichigo set it down and cleared his throat, gaining Grimmjow's attention, the other man's steely blue gaze snapping to him.

"So..." he trailed off, not sure how to get back to where there conversation had been before the food had come.

"So," Grimmjow pressed, setting his food down as well.

"Earlier you said that you wanted to leave...together," Ichigo said.

"Right."

Ichigo huffed in irritation.

"So...why?"

Then it was Grimmjow's turn to sigh as he reclined in his seat, folding his arms across his broad chest.

"I said it before, we can't live like this, from paycheck to paycheck. It sucks," he said, his voice rough and eyes like stone. "And you deserve better."

Ichigo bit his lip so hard it started to bleed, a lump swelling in his throat as he looked anywhere but his lover. He swallowed harshly before speaking.

"I...I'll find another job, Grimm. I-"

"No."

Ichigo looked back to see that Grimmjow's expression was balefully serious and seeing that the orangette was confused, further elaborated.

"I don't want ya to get a job, Ichi. I want ya to go to school, like ya've wanted to ever since I firs' met ya," he scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned forward so that Ichigo was sure to look straight into his deep blue stare. "I can make tha' happen, and if I didn't do it, I'd never forgive myself."

"Grimmjow, I-," Ichigo started, having an idea of what his lover was thinking of, but the other man cut him off.

"Look, we've discussed this before, yeah? I know ya don't like it, but if you came with me to Rukongai, you could go to school there and you wouldn't be alone, and neither would I," Grimmjow said with a tone of finality, but Ichigo was far from done discussing this.

"You want to go back to your...old job."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

Ichigo's frown deepened, his eyes hardening.

"I won't allow it." He would never, ever let Grimmjow go back to that world full of pain and violence and blood and death and all just for _him_. The thought of it alone had his stomach twisting and turning, that the man he loved more than anything would be thrust back into the nightmare that still haunted him at times even after almost five years.

No it wouldn't happen, it wouldn't, it wouldn't.

Grimmjow ran a hair through his hair in frustration, the action making Ichigo's heart twinge a little. He hated to see Grimmjow so discontent. If he to throw himself off a bridge to make the man happy, he would do it and yes, perhaps it's a tad pathetic, but he owed Grimmjow his life. More than that, even.

"I ain't askin' for yer permission."

"Good, because I'm not giving it."

Grimmjow's clenched fist thudded heavily on the table, startling Ichigo into flinching a little at the noise. His upper lip curled into a snarl, revealing one of those too sharp canines.

"Stop bein' so unreasonable," he gritted from between his teeth, eyes bright with emotion snapping shut. Ichigo just shook his head, bringing his hands up in a helpless gesture.

"Not allowing you to get yourself killed just because I don't know how to do advanced calculus is unreasonable?" He didn't understand how Grimmjow could be so thick as to not see that the risk of moving back to the city of Rukongai far outweighed the potential benefits.

"You'll never be happy here, not like this." Grimmjow's voice was so low, Ichigo could barely hear it, but when he did, he ignored everything from the pain in his hands and the potential scene he could cause before reaching out to grab Grimmjow by the front of his flannel shirt, pulling him forward over the table so that their faces were not an inch apart, cyan eyes flying open at the gesture to meet toffee brown ones.

"I'll always be happy, as long as I'm with you," he said softly and Ichigo's tone must have been the ironically _un_happiest ever. He felt Grimmjow's hands go up to encircle his wrist gently, always gently.

"Ichigo, _please_."

That one word from his blue-haired lover was enough to make the orangette's mouth fall open a tiny bit and his grip on the other's shirt to completely slacken.

Grimmjow never begged, never pleaded. If he wanted something, he always took it. For him to say the word, one he seemed to hate with every fiber of his being...well, Ichigo wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped him back to reality and he turned his head to see the waitress from before, looking strangely somber as she placed a black, rectangular on the table.

"Your check," was all she said before walking away, leaving them alone.

* * *

><p>The walk back to the truck was silent, as was about ten minutes of the ride home.<p>

That was, until the deep roar of the engine of the truck grew to an almost unbearable volume and then gave out completely, the vehicle languidly slowing down. Ichigo's eyes cornered to see Grimmjow stomping on the gas pedal and the clutch before going on to the brakes, stopping the ancient truck completely. He then put it into park, angrily thrusting the stick shift into gear before kicking his door open and shut, a blast of winter air flooding the inside as he stepped outside, leaving Ichigo alone. The orangette could see through the windshield as Grimmjow popped the hood, looking inside for the problem.

This was just their luck.

It was only a minute before he climbed back into the driver's side, slamming the door shut and making the entire truck shiver with the vibrations from the action. It was another moment before he said anything.

"Battery cable came loose; gonna be a while 'fore the damn thing'll start up again."

Ichigo just nodded once, hating the uncomfortable, tense silence that followed as they sat there in the dark, the silence that had been following them ever since they had left the diner.

He was _not _being unreasonable.

As they continued to sit there in the quiet, not even the occasional car in the other lane to break the silence, Ichigo could almost feel the cold seep in through the windows. He shivered involuntarily, pulling his warm jacket tighter around himself.

He wondered if with their income now cut in half, if they would have to turn the heat off in the house. Or have it turned off for them, that had happened once or twice. Not that they had ever cared much when they would press against each other, looking for more than just heat.

A weight settled against his shoulders and Ichigo snapped out of his reverie to see that that stupid blue-haired _idiot _had taken off his own winter coat and was trying to put it on him.

"Grimmjow," he said sternly, resisting the urge to curl his hands into fists out of frustration as he knew it would hurt.

"Just shut up and wear it, will ya? You're too thin for this weather with tha' jacket and I don't wanna be stuck draggin' yer dead body somewhere to bury it," Grimmjow barked, sliding back over to his side of the singular long , leather-covered seat. Ichigo felt the tips of ears and his cheeks burn with both anger and embarrassment. Ripping the heavy coat off his shoulder (and almost immediately missing it's warmth due to Grimmjow's abnormally high body heat), he threw it at his lover harshly, most of it landing on top of the other man's head.

"Bastard, I don't want your stupid coat!" Ichigo yelled, too outraged to even think of a witty comeback. It seemed that whenever he was annoyed with Grimmjow, he was reduced to all of the brain power and maturity of a seven-year-old. And it seemed that Grimmjow was, too.

He watched through narrowed eyes as his boyfriend ripped the offending fabric off of his head, revealing eyes sharp and bright with ire and a snarl that would have intimidated anyone else in the whole wide universe. But not Ichigo, never Ichigo.

"My coat is _not _stupid, you little shit," Grimmjow growled before shoving it back towards the orangette, whom immediately shoved it back, resulting a mini-shoving war.

"Yes it is! I don't want it touching me, I'll get the stupid in me through osmosis!" Ichigo protested, drawing his legs back onto the seat so that he was huddled into the corner and prepared to kick if needed. Make no mistake, his legs were positively _deadly_.

"Too bad, I said to put it on," Grimmjow's eyes narrowed and he made to pounce, but was cut short by one of Ichigo's feet harshly brushing by his rib cage, missing its original target of his abdomen. The blunette then let loose a very animalistic snarl and before Ichigo could comprehend what was happening, his lover had his back pinned against the car door and his thighs were spread apart and held in place by Grimmjow's knees. Howling in frustration, he squirmed desperately, trying to get from under Grimmjow's larger frame, but in this position, it was all about muscle, and while Ichigo was certainly no pushover, he lacked the upper body strength to gain the upper hand.

All he could do was wriggle about as Grimmjow tried to put the coat on him, frustrating the other man even more.

"Stop squirmin'!" he barked, thrusting one of the sleeves up Ichigo's left arm, which spurred a lightbulb to flicker on over the smaller man's head. Containing his manic grin, Ichigo stiffened, pulling his eyebrows together in what he hoped was a pained expression.

"Ah, Grimm, my hand!" he cried out. As soon as the words left his mouth, Grimmjow immediately stilled for a second and then pulled away, lifting most of his weight off Ichigo as he sat back on his heels on the leather seat.

"Shit, Ichigo, I didn't... I wasn't thinking," the blunette's voice uncharacteristically wavered and Ichigo almost felt bad. Almost. "Here, let me see."

Ichigo reached out to place his hand into Grimmjow's and felt bare hands enclose his gloved one as he slowly sat up. Just as the other man was about to pull his glove off, Ichigo tightened his grip, ignoring the pain shooting up his arm and tugged hard, sliding to the right. He laughed heartily as he saw Grimmjow's eyes widen in the darkness before he landed face down on the leather, Ichigo above him and now sitting on top of his back, a smug expression of victory gracing his face.

Expecting Grimmjow's retaliation, he pulled the coat that was now dangling off his arm and held it out almost defensively. However, a few moments passed...and nothing. Milk chocolate eyes narrowed in confusion as the other man remained completely still.

"Grimmjow?" Ichigo questioned, leaning forward so that he could make out his lover's prone form better in the darkness of the truck.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow voice was monotone and void of all the ire and life that had been there only a minute ago. "Get off."

Stunned at the man's sudden change in attitude, Ichigo slid off so that he was half-hanging off of the seat cushion, one foot on the floor of the truck. Had his faking pain offended Grimmjow that much? Not for the first time that day, Ichigo felt guilt wash over him. However, before he could say or do anything, large hands fisted into his jacket and roughly wrenched him down the leather seat.

As his vision refocused, Ichigo saw that Grimmjow had pulled him down so that he was now lying on his side, with the other hovering over him once more. Grimmjow's bright, white teeth gleamed sadistically in the darkness, his face not even a breath away from Ichigo's own. Even after four and a half years of trying to remain as physically close to the blunette as possible, he found that sometimes Grimmjow's beauty stunned him into forgetting how to breathe.

"Two can play at that game, _Ichi_."

He then felt Grimmjow's knee slide in between his thighs and his breath hitched, immediately feeling soothing heat coil in his pelvic area and the sharp drop of desire in his abdomen. He could feel the abnormal warmth radiating from the body above his and he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he_ was_ supposed to be mad for some reason, but he couldn't bring himself to care much when the only pair of lips he had ever kissed brushed over his gently. But it was only a teasing gesture as they passed over, grazing the skin of his cheekbone and the bridge of his nose, over the very faint freckles that lay there.

Grimmjow's mouth descended down to Ichigo's pulse point, where they pressed themselves against the sensitive spot, causing the orangette to sigh and his eyes flutter closed. A heated hand slid under his many layers of clothing to rest on his lower abdomen, right above the waistband of his jeans, the warmth on his chilled skin making him shudder involuntarily. He felt the other man press closer to him, the delicious weight pinning him to the leather seat.

"Grimm," he breathed, a faint tone of pleading in his voice but the rest of his breath was stolen by a good, proper kiss. The kind where someone presses their lips to yours so forcefully it is as if they are trying to meld the two of you together, like nothing bad could ever happen if you just stayed intertwined. The kind Ichigo had never known had existed until he had met Grimmjow that one fateful night and had his only and last first kiss.

He raised his hands to run them through locks of messy, aqua hair, parting his lips to swipe his tongue across Grimmjow's lips, the other's own darting out to meet it, causing Ichigo to groan in satisfaction as they moved against each other languidly. After their time together, this was a well-practiced dance the two of them had perfected long ago, having learned each and every plane and curve of each other's bodies and which places drove the other crazy. Speaking of which...

Ichigo slid his hands from Grimmjow's hair as the other man positioned himself so that he was lying between the slighter man's legs; he ran them down the strong neck and broad, muscled back until they curved over his lover's firm but still yielding backside. A smirk stretching his lips, Ichigo squeezed as hard as he could without causing himself anything more than a slight ache in his hands.

He was rewarded when Grimmjow moaned into his mouth, breaking away to stare down with a too intense, phosphorescently blue gaze. It wasn't fair that any human could possess such eyes, Ichigo thought, surely they could convince just about any one to do just about anything. But he was knocked from his thoughts as Grimmjow's denim-covered groin rocked against his, the friction positively maddening already.

Suddenly impatient, he reached between them for the blunette's belt, his trembling fingers having a hard time with the buckle until Grimmjow's hand covered his own, leaning down to whisper against his lips "Considering it's below freezin' Ichi, we should probably keep as many clothes on as possible."

But Ichigo wasn't the type to nod his head and acquiesce, and as stated before, somehow Grimmjow brought out his inner petulant, bossy child. Batting away the man's hand from his belt, Ichigo pulled his own gloves off with his teeth, forcing his stiff hands to unbuckle the blasted thing.

"Just take your damn pants off, Grimm," he tried to say sternly, but ended up sounding rather whiny, earning a chuckle from Grimmjow that normally would have earned his lover a smack in the chest or upside the head, but instead Ichigo smashed their lips together in a bruising kiss. He reveled in the sensation of their tongues meeting once more, exploring the other's wet orifice only too eagerly. A very unmanly whimper escaped his lips as Grimmjow pulled away to run his broad hands down Ichigo's lithe chest, the latter loving both the pleasurable and somehow safe, secure feeling of those calloused palms coming to grip onto his hips.

"You too, then," Grimmjow said a little breathlessly as he rubbed himself against Ichigo once more.

"Don't...tell me...what to do," the orangette said in between pants of mind-numbing physical bliss, his jeans becoming tighter by the second as he felt Grimmjow's member pulse faintly even through the fabric.

His lover decided not to respond to that as one of his hands left Ichigo's hips to paw at the button and zipper, leaving the orange-haired man to buck against his touch, searching for more contact, until suddenly he stilled completely, looking up at Grimmjow through lust-darkened, half-mast eyes.

"Wait," he insisted, laying his gauze wrapped hand over the one at his zipper.

"What is it?" the blunette asked, his voice deeper and hoarser than normal, the sound of it nearly making Ichigo forget what was so important that they stop.

"We...we don't have any, uh..." he trailed off, pissed off of at himself for still being so easily flustered around the man he had been with four and a half years. He _should _be able to call the thing by name...

"Lube?" Grimmjow finished for him, his white teeth flashing as he grinned and reached over into the compartment on the passenger, popping it open and revealing an assortment of minutia that held no real importance. His fingers closed around a small, clear bottle and he waved it around a bit. "I'm always prepared," he said smugly, making Ichigo frown.

"Why do you have that in the truck?

"Yer kidding me, right? I've been waiting for the day that I can christen Pantera," Grimmjow said, using the name he had come up with for the raising a fist to his chin. "Of course, I always pictured it in the back, but this works too," he leered down at Ichigo, a lecherous smile stretching his lips, making the latter roll his coffee-brown eyes. Obviously unsatisfied with the fact that the slighter man could still think straight, he palmed Ichigo's already very prominent bulge making the orangette shudder and cry out.

"Oh _shit, _hurry the fuck _up_, Grimm."

Ichigo knew it was no secret he had always been very vocal, and impatient, especially when completely overcome with want as he was apt to be whenever in an enclosed space with Grimmjow. The man was wearing a self-satisfied look on his face that Ichigo could have slapped right off if it weren't for the fact that it looked so _right _on that beautiful face and that Grimmjow's fingers were now dipping into the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling both them and his jeans down at the same time to his calves, exposing his toned, tanned thighs and now fully erect member to the cold air. He hissed at the strange but not uncomfortable sensation and nearly cried out in indignation as hands gripped underneath his knees, lifting his legs up into the air until he was nearly bent in half.

He only saw Grimmjow's motivation for doing so when the man he called his lover let his legs rest on his shoulders, the fabric of his underwear and jeans that had pooled around his ankles locking his feet in place behind Grimmjow's neck. Ichigo felt a flush blossom over his body, the normally tanned skin on his chest and face turning a gentle pink. There was something about being so exposed, even to Grimmjow, _especially_ to Grimmjow, that simultaneously frightened and excited him at the same time.

Ichigo licked his lips subconsciously as he watched the blunette unbuttoned his jeans and ever so slowly unzipping them to reveal that even in winter months, Grimmjow went commando. But Ichigo had known that for quite some time, of course.

His erection was turning unbearable and he was barely restraining himself from thrusting into the air, but he silently pleaded for Grimmjow to just touch him already. He suppressed a whine, biting into his lower lip, as his lover pulled out his own cock, one that looked to be just as hard as he was, beads of pre-cum already forming on the slit of the larger than life member. Ichigo wanted to touch himself terribly, his dick throbbing with the need for some of touch, but he knew better than to even try.

Luckily, it seemed that Grimmjow was in just as impatient a mood as he was and Ichigo could have almost cried from relief as it seemed he wouldn't have to endure what seemed like endless teasing. One hand still wrapped around his own member, the blunette ran his hand down Ichigo's leg, pressing his lips to the exposed calf that was right next to his face. His fingertips brushed over the inside of the orangette's thighs, leading Ichigo to shudder violently until they reached the sensitive skin of his perineum. He groaned as Grimmjow lightly traced it until he reached the younger man's entrance, easily accessible from the position they were in.

Ichigo could have punched his boyfriend for completely neglecting his now bright red cock, but didn't press his luck as Grimmjow's fingers, already slick with the conveniently available lubricant, circled his puckered entrance. However, the other man suddenly lowered himself onto him so that with a sharp shock of pleasure, their erections rubbed against each other, the large hand that had been on the blunette's member circling both of theirs in a firm grip.

Ichigo threw his head back, barely even registering that he bumped his head into the car door, as his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he swore loudly, bucking up against Grimmjow's larger frame, wrapping his arms around still clothed shoulders for leverage.

Grimmjow's hand began to move back and forth, pleasuring the both of them as he concurrently swept down to bite down on the pressure point just under Ichigo's jaw hard enough to surely leave a mark. Ichigo winced but the slight discomfort was forgotten as he felt Grimmjow's ring finger slide into him.

"Ah, _fuuuuck_," he moaned into Grimmjow's sky blue hair, feeling him hum in appreciation and lave his tongue over the place where the imprint of his teeth had been left on bronzed skin. Ichigo felt the digit inside of him begin to move to accommodate a second one, moving together in a scissoring motion. The slight stretch only made him want more, he wanted to feel completely filled to the brim, especially when those finger grazed over his sweet spot, leading him to thrust wildly into Grimmjow's hand.

"Grimm, ah...please," Ichigo turned so that his lips were pressed right to his lover's left ear. "I need you inside of me," his baritone voice dropped an octave, resulting in the very noticeable groan and shudder that racked Grimmjow's body. Ichigo could have smirked at that moment; he knew the man couldn't resist when he talked dirty.

Grimmjow rocked himself back onto his heels, Ichigo's legs going back up to his shoulders as he withdrew his hands from both the younger man's puckered entrance and the member that twitched in excitement as he lined himself up at that entrance the head of his cock tracing the division of Ichigo's supple, tanned flesh.

"Tell me you were being unreasonable," he demanded huskily, pressing the tip in just to stretch that tight entryway the slightest bit before pulling back. Ichigo's nearly black eyes that had darkened with lust stared up at him with confusion written in their depths. Grimmjow repeated the action, sliding in just so that the orangette could feel the smallest stretch and then pulled back. "Tell me we'll go to Rukongai."

Ichigo frowned but didn't say anything at first, instead reaching up to grab onto turquoise locks with his gauze-wrapped hands to bring the two lovers' faces together, lusted visions locking as their foreheads touched.

"Convince me," was all he said before letting go and dropping back to the leather seat. Grimmjow smiled softly, a rare thing if there ever was one, before lining himself up once more with Ichigo's entrance, pressing into the familiar, tight heat slowly, just like they liked it.

He knew what Ichigo meant.

_Show me how much you love me._

It felt like an eternity before Ichigo felt that Grimmjow was fully seated inside of him and he sighed in content, it felt so right, being filled by the man that had saved him more ways and times than he could count.

Grimmjow withdrew almost all the way out before thrusting back in, hitting Ichigo's prostate with deadly accuracy and making him cry out in the most erotic fashion, pink tinging his cheeks and his kiss swollen lips parting to let loose the most beautiful sounds the blunette had ever heard, the ones that turned him on like no other.

"Shit, you feel so good," he murmured.

Ichigo wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's waist as the man continued to rock in and out of him, hitting that one spot that made stars dance before his eyes almost every time, the feeling of being filled and emptied repetitively bringing him closer and closer to that peak.

"Unh, harder," he demanded wantonly, raising his hips to meet Grimmjow's thrusts and being rewarded when his lover wrapped a hand around his straining erection, slowly pumping up and down in contrast to their wild rutting.

"Fuck, moan louder fer me," Grimmjow insisted and Ichigo was only too happy to comply, far too gone to worry about embarrassing himself, keening and panting in between his cries of passion. Arching his back and raising his hips so that they were off of the seat, he felt that coiling of that sweet ache in the base of his spine and in the pit of his belly and when Grimmjow gave a particularly deep thrust that it nailed his prostate dead on, Ichigo was done for.

Every muscle in his body stilled as he let out his loudest cry yet, his passage tightening around the older man who groaned at the feeling, still moving himself in and out of that hot, tight channel. Ichigo's entire vision went black as he came to his climax, white, warm strands gushing from his cock to land onto the bare part of his lower belly where Grimmjow had pushed his shirt away. After the mind-numbingly pleasant spasms had left him, he slumped, completely sated and spent. He felt strong arms wrap around his waist and bring him to a sitting position, where he let his head fall onto Grimmjow's shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed even while his lover's column of flesh continued to penetrate him, his entire body jolting with every thrust.

Burying his face in the crook of Grimmjow's neck and still enjoying the feeling of being filled so completely by the man, he sighed heavily. He knew what he had to do, had to say now. Perhaps it was post-coital hormones or something that was making him feel this way.

"I love you, Grimmjow," he murmured against the flesh of his lover's throat, loving the way the man that had once been an emotionally detached killer immediately climaxed hearing those words, growling as he released his seed inside of Ichigo, warmth coating his walls in an almost comforting manner.

Panting slightly, Grimmjow rested his head against the leather seat after brushing his lips over the orangette's temple.

"Love ya too, Ichi, to hell and back."

Ichigo tightened his grip around the blue-haired man's neck, pressing his face into that junction between throat and shoulder, trying with all his might to make the lump in his throat, the awful stinging in his eyes go away. He hated himself for acting like this, so weak and pathetic. He inwardly cursed himself as he felt his shoulders start to shake and he shut his eyes tightly.

For fuck's sake, Grimmjow was still _inside _him.

"Ichi?" came Grimmjow's uncertain voice and Ichigo felt him try to maneuver himself so that he could look at his face, but he just clung onto the man even tighter.

"Yes," he said, his voice thick, betraying his distressed state. Swallowing heavily, he pulled back to look into Grimmjow's cyanic eyes that were full of a million different emotions and made Ichigo bite his lip as he reaffirmed that no tears would fall from his eyes, even as moisture escaped his left eyelash and ran down his cheek before Grimmjow's thumb caught it, erasing its existence. "Yes, we can go to Rukongai."

And so they did, not having even an inkling of what lay in store for them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Not my best work this chapter, but I really love the idea of this plot and because I'm having such a fun time writing this, I'm extending this to last for about four to five chapters. The next part will pick up the story six months later, when Grimmjow and Ichigo move to the big city and Grimmjow's past catches up with them.

OH AND there is lots of room in a 1964 Chevrolet CS10. Google that shit, it's an amazing car. ;)

Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed/ added this to their favorites and alerts. I wasn't expecting much positive feedback on this, but you guys pleasantly surprised me. :)

Disclaimer: I disclaim.

_Also, I have a poll on my profile in regards to what I will write after I finish either "Greek" or "Dulce." Vote please? :D _


	3. Sanctuary

**Blue Collar Angel III**

**Sanctuary **

_You, soft and only_

_You, lost and lonely_

_You, just like heaven_

* * *

><p><em>Six Months Later<em>

* * *

><p>The city of Rukongai was hot and loud. Yes, especially <em>loud<em>.

Ichigo had never heard (or seen) anything like it. The never-ending sounds of cars and their blaring horns, the shouting of street vendors and their customers, the men and women eagerly chatting away on their cell phones as they power-walked down the absolutely claustrophobic sidewalk; it was just like Ichigo had imagined it to be. And he loved every second of it.

Ever since he had gotten off the train that morning he had been completely overwhelmed to see the sheer amount of not just people, but stores and buildings and cars too, there was just so _much _of everything.

He remembered that, almost feeling like he would get swallowed up in the crowd, he had grabbed a hold of his companion's shirt, following the man's confident lead through the station and down several city blocks. It had only been a moment or two ago that he had let go, now sure that they wouldn't be separated forcibly by the masses.

And now he couldn't keep his eyes from flitting from one thing to the next, from storefront to storefront. There must have been at least twenty restaurants on that block alone, all different in their cuisine and decor. To put it simply, it blew Ichigo's mind.

_He didn't think he'd been to even _ten _different restaurants in his entire life. _

The orangette shifted the small box that was under his left arm so that it sat more comfortably on his hip and used his free hand to wipe at the sweat that had collected on his brow. It seemed that the summer heat of June was even more stifling in such a crowded place and it made his mouth dry and throat ache for water. His legs were also beginning to get tired, unsupported by the flip flops he had thought had been a good choice for the ninety-degree weather that day, despite the head shake his lover had given when he saw them, though he had stopped when he seen the death glare the orangette was giving him.

Ichigo turned his head to look up to see said lover staring straight ahead as they made their way briskly down the sidewalk, a slightly larger box tucked under his arm as well (because of course he just _had _to carry the bigger one.) The blue-haired man must have sensed that eyes were on him because his cyan irises cornered to see Ichigo staring up at him through dark lashes. He must have also seen the minor fatigue that was showing on Ichigo's face because he smiled softly and rested his hand atop the mop of shaggy, orange hair.

"Only one more block, promise," Grimmjow assured the other man, slightly ruffling the already tousled sunset locks before replacing his hand to where it had been steadying the cardboard box at his side. Ichigo just nodded, not wanting to use his voice when his mouth felt like the Savannah desert.

But he felt a great swell of relief and accomplishment at hearing that their new home was only _one block_ further, their swift pace bringing them closer to it every second.

It had taken a rough and very long six months for Grimmjow to secure his place back at his..._former position_. Their financial issues had only worsened during those long months as their income had been cut in half. They had gone without heat for the rest of the winter and lived on one meal a day (it was truly amazing what Ichigo could now do with a single box of ramen.) But they had survived and made it through, just like they had always done.

But don't think for one second that Ichigo didn't feel incredibly _low _for being unable to help financially, so much so that now Grimmjow, the man who had given him everything he could have ever hoped for and more, was back in the city he had fled in an attempt to escape the violence and danger his work brought him. He had considered going back on his word several times, only to keep his mouth shut when he saw the light in Grimmjow's beautiful eyes every time he talked about going to the city and all the things they could do there, how they could really make themselves a life there.

_When it really mattered, and despite how sad it was, he could never say no to Grimmjow. Never._

They rounded a corner, Ichigo following the blunette as they walked right about to one of the tallest buildings on the street, but by no means a skyscraper like in the northern part of Rukongai. Grimmjow stopped at the stairs and Ichigo watched the man's face as he scanned the building, a slightly manic grin lighting up his face, showing his bright white teeth. He looked positively _radiant _(though such a wrongly and distinctly effeminate adjective, it fit him perfectly) and Ichigo assumed that this must be where their new apartment resided. The orange-haired man frowned a bit, remembering all the interested looks his lover had gotten on their walk here. There must have been about ten at _least _and those were only the ones he had caught.

Tearing his eyes away from Grimmjow, Ichigo studied the building that was to be their new home, a deliriously blissful smile stretching his lips as he confirmed that it looked just the same as the picture his blunette lover had shown him.

It was an older building, built somewhere around the turn of the last century, and though it had been renovated, the contractors had smartly left the architecture alone so that it still had those heavily framed windows painted a dark green that contrasted perfectly with the original ivory bricks, partially covered in thick ivy leaves. The stone steps led up to double doors that were that same shade of forest green and before Ichigo could blink, Grimmjow was already walking through them and he had to scurry up the steps to catch up, nearly dropping his small box.

Grimmjow held the door open for him as he stepped through the portal into the welcome relief of cool air-conditioning and a small foyer that only held a communal mail box and a winding staircase. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Grimmjow's smile widen, his blue eyes gleaming in a very familiar manic glee.

"We're in 615," he stated, sidling up closer to Ichigo so that his warm breath fanned across the slighter man's cheekbone. He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a key ring and shaking them like jingle bells. "Race ya?"

Before he could even finish his proposition, Ichigo was sprinting up the stairs, tired leg muscles forgotten and grinning from ear to ear. "Oi, ya little brat!" Grimmjow called after him, making the younger man snicker as he heard his lover's heavy footsteps on the stairs below.

_Grimmjow may be stronger, but there was no way he could beat Ichigo in speed. _

Ichigo continued to run up the old, wooden stairs, hearing them creak loudly as he counted the floors in his head.

_Two...three...four...five...and...six._

He slowed down to a jog as he passed the doors, a little out of breath. The familiarity of the situation bringing a five year-old memory to the front of his mind, when he had been eighteen and alone and running down a hallway. Stopping in his tracks, he noticed that he had come to the door that read 615 on a gold plaque.

_Their new home. _

Ichigo felt Grimmjow's presence behind him before he heard the man's angered growl, meant to be intimidating (and it would have been so to anyone _other _than Ichigo.) The orange-haired man just rolled his eyes and turned to face his lover, whose lips were curled up into a snarl.

"I win," he teased, smirking. Immediately, Grimmjow's face fell into a rather petulant pout and Ichigo knew if the man weren't carrying a box, he would've folded his arms across his chest like a child in time-out.

"You cheated," the blunette huffed, making Ichigo scoff.

"_Please_. Even if I had given you a head start, you still would've lost."

"Tch, as if." But Grimmjow's pout had lifted into a smirk and there was a very familiar look in his gaze that was_ definitely_ not heated in anger, but something else. "Wanna know what I do ta cheaters, Ichi?" he asked, his voice nice and husky, like rough velvet. Ichigo's shoulders shuddered at the sound and he leaned forward, toffee-brown eyes heavily lidded as they stared directly up into their crystalline blue counterpart.

"Why don't you show me?" he questioned, his baritone voice dropping an octave. Grimmjow's smirk widened and he bent down to press his lips against Ichigo's, only to be met with air as his orange-haired lover leapt backwards. He frowned, brows furrowing but Ichigo only chuckled.

_How he loved to tease the blue-haired man, especially since it was the other way around most of the time. _

"Show me, after I see the new apartment," he negotiated, gesturing with the hand that wasn't still holding the cardboard box to his hip to the door to their new home. Grimmjow sighed as if the request was just oh so unreasonable and reached forward to unlock apartment 615's door, turning the key in the lock until a satisfying click was heard. The door swung open by itself, and Ichigo, as impatient as ever, brushed by Grimmjow forcibly to take in the place they would live in indefinitely.

The first thing he noticed was that it was open-concept, meaning that the living area, kitchen, and bedroom were all basically in the same room, just as the blunette had explained to him. Apparently the building had been a historic textile plant before it was renovated and so instead of spending time and money putting up walls to make the spaces divided properly, they had simply kept it as it was. Though it seemed that buyers quite liked the style as it was very trendy at the moment, and Ichigo had to admit he did as well. The apartment itself was no bigger than their former home, but it definitely felt like it.

He stepped into the apartment/room, seeing that it was basically a rectangle, with one door on the left that must have been the bathroom, and that all the walls had been painted a slate color that suited the space perfectly, the floors the darkest hardwood he had ever seen, nearly black in color. His eyes scanned the living area, finding that the place was already furnished, just as Grimmjow had assured him it would be.

Ichigo had had a difficult time just leaving what little furniture they had used in their old home, but now he could see why it hadn't bothered his lover so much. The living area to the left of him was complete with an espresso-colored, leather couch and matching armchair, a dark cherry wood coffee table and fireplace built into the wall opposite, over which hung what looked to be quite an expensive plasma TV.

The orange-haired man could feel his lover behind him as he tore his eyes away from the living area to the kitchen, with cabinets of the same dark cherry wood, stainless steel appliances, and black granite counter tops, and then to the 'bedroom'.

A queen-sized bed with an ebony sleigh frame sat on top of a slightly raised dais and a pure white shag rug that he wanted to bury his bare feet into. Not to mention it was made with what Ichigo could only imagine were absolutely heavenly light gray bedsheets and duvet. A wardrobe and two nightstands on either side were made of the same dusky wood.

But those were all nothing, _nothing at all_, compared to the wall opposite where he stood. It also seemed that the contractors hadn't changed the windows when they had renovated the historic building, leaving the original ones there and they were positively _massive_, spanning from floor to ceiling and the entire wall, the dying sunlight filtering through to provide what Ichigo thought must have been the best view he'd ever seen.

Almost unknowingly, he padded over to the window directly across from him, still carrying his box. Looking out through the large, transparent portal he could see that they were high up enough to see for miles, the city of Rukongai seemingly never-ending as it faded into the horizon. If Ichigo wasn't so completely overwhelmed that all of this was his and Grimmjow's, he would've slapped himself for acting like such a girl, fawning over a simple apartment that many would consider mediocre. But not to him, not at all.

"So, I guess ya like it, then," Grimmjow murmured against the exposed skin of his neck, wrapping both of his strong arms around his torso as he had obviously set down the box he had been carrying. Ichigo leaned into the embrace, enjoying the feeling of his back being possessively pressed against that firm chest. He doubted he would ever let anyone else hold him like this...but then again, no one else had ever tried to.

_And that was why only Grimmjow would ever have that privilege. _

"'s perfect," he said, slurring his words a little as a content lethargy washed over him. "These windows..." he trailed off, searching for the right word to describe them without sounding ridiculous or like a greeting card. He shook his head helplessly as he came up with nothing, feeling Grimmjow smirk against his throat, lips softly brushing the sensitive skin there.

"Mmm, ya like them?" Ichigo just nodded in response, as it wasn't obvious enough. He felt the blunette's chest rumble, almost like a purring house cat before the man spoke again.

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna have fun screwin' ya up against them."

Ichigo scowled almost immediately, wiggling one of his arms free so that he could elbow the other man away from him. The blue-haired pervert grunted in pain as that sharp elbow dug into his ribcage and he let go of Ichigo so that he could clutch his side and whine while the former rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.

_Of course Grimmjow had to go and ruin the semi-romantic moment._

"Ichi, do ya always have ta hurt me every time I try ta express my feelings fer ya?" Grimmjow's lower lip jutted out into a rather pathetic pout.

"You ruined the moment, you pervert!" Ichigo pointed a finger at the other accusingly before passing by him to set the cardboard box he was still carrying onto the coffee table. There wasn't much in it, just mementos really that he couldn't bear to get rid of. Almost everything else they had left behind.

"But tha's how I express myself," Grimmjow argued, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "'Sides, ya said I could show ya what ya get fer cheatin' after you saw tha new place," he wagged one finger in the smaller man's direction, a playful expression appearing on his face (one that anyone other than Ichigo would have easily mistaken for sadistic glee, especially as one sharp canine peaked out from between his full, smirking lips.)

"I didn't say you could do it up against the window, where the whole world can see!"

"No one can see this far up, Ichi," Grimmjow pointed out, but Ichigo just folded his arms and sent a look in the man's direction that just screamed 'You really expect me to believe that?'

"No."

"Aw, come on, Ichi."

"I said no, dammit, and that's _final_!"

"Please?"

"NO!"

* * *

><p>"Yes!" Ichigo cried out, his voice now a little hoarse from how vocal he had been in the past forty-five minutes. "Right<em> there<em>..._harder_. Please, Grimm!"

As it turned out, he really _couldn't _say no to Grimmjow, especially when it came to the blunette fucking him passionately into hard surfaces. And so he had spent the better part of an hour pressed up against the very window he had watched the sun set out of. The right side of his face was flush with the cool glass that felt soothing on his heated skin and his arms were folded above his head to keep him from smashing into the window face first whenever Grimmjow gave a particularly hard thrust from behind him. Ichigo wasn't sure how to feel about the man's arms wrapped around his waist being the only thing holding him up as his legs were locked onto the blunette's hips, despite them bucking wildly at the moment.

"Right..._there_?" Grimmjow husked, his member that was buried balls deep inside of the orangette hitting the latter's sweet spot with deadly accuracy and sending him over the edge without even any stimulation to his own erection.

"_Yes_!" Ichigo screamed in ecstasy, white strings of hot liquid bursting forth from his pink cock to land on his chest and the glass of the window. He saw white as his orgasm ripped through him as intensely as it did every time he came from just Grimmjow hitting that special place deep inside of him. He gasped for breath but wasn't able to catch it before he was being bodily spun around to face the man rocking in and out of him, that ever-present arrogance clear on his face even when in the throes of passion.

"Tha' feel good, Ichi?" he teased. The other man couldn't even respond as afterglow set upon him even with that large member still thrusting into his entrance so hard and fast and deep he knew he was going to have trouble sitting down later that night.

Grimmjow bent his head to lap at the come that had gathered on Ichigo's lithe torso, making the other moan at the sight though he was so past satiated (not to mention downright tired) he couldn't even begin to think of going at it for much longer, though that seemed not to matter to his blue-haired lover.

"Mmm, ya taste so good," he said, licking his lips carnally as Ichigo watched through dazed, chocolate-brown eyes. Leaning in closer, he pressed their foreheads together and Ichigo wrapped his lightly tanned arms around Grimmjow's neck. It seemed that whenever he did that, looked directly into the man's eyes that is and pressed their faces so close together their breath united and, though it sounds so terribly trite, he really felt like they were one being, the blunette's demeanor would change slightly. Lust-darkened sapphires would turn into warm pools of bluer than blue ocean water and his lips would part ever so slightly and his thrusts would slow and more purposeful, as if he wanted to get as deeply inside the other as he possibly could.

_Ichigo thought that it must have been the most beautiful thing he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. _

"Love ya, Ichi," he whispered in a soft, but somehow powerful voice. It pulled on Ichigo's heartstrings in all the right ways, making his chest ache, not realizing he had forgotten to reply until Grimmjow's sharp teeth embedded themselves into the junction between his shoulder and neck making him cry out hoarsely.

"L-love you too, Grimm," he panted out, almost smiling at how his lover became so damn needy during sex. The blunette pressed a kiss to the place he had bitten in apology and he drew back to look at Ichigo's face once more, removing one hand from the slighter man's hip to splay against the window, his smirk back.

"Ready for me ta come inside of ya?" he nearly growled, his pace quickening again and losing its steady rhythm. Ichigo barely had time to wonder when he, still a major prude in many ways, had become so wanton and shameless before he moaned in response.

"_Yes_, come inside of me. _I need it_." His lustful statement, only made better by his pleasant baritone, seemed to push Grimmjow over the edge and the other man suddenly stilled, as deep as he could possibly be, and let out the world's only sexy grunt as orgasm gripped him.

Ichigo closed his eyes, toes curling at the feeling of his lover releasing his hot seed inside of him, and sighed heavily, completely content now that Grimmjow had reached climax too. He slumped in the older man's arms, letting his head fall onto the broad shoulder in front of him and feeling the other's muscles relax before he pulled them both away from the window.

Grimmjow pulled his softening member out of Ichigo, setting the latter onto his feet. The orangette blinked a few times before his gaze flickered to the still made bed a few feet away. Escaping from Grimmjow's embrace he walked slowly to the bed in an almost zombie-like fashion, rubbing one of his eyes and yawning before dropping onto the bed face first.

Ichigo immediately moaned in bliss, intensely pleased to find that the bed was just as comfortable as it looked, indefinitely more so than the ancient one they had slept on for the last five years. He could feel that he was still..._messy_ but the day's activities and his earlier exhaustion were catching up with him. His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed, curling up into the sheets.

_Was that Egyptian cotton?_

Oh yeah, he was definitely going to sleep for at least eight hours before he even thought about moving again. He shivered in delight at the notion, burrowing his head further into the ridiculously soft pillow under it.

Ichigo heard a faint chuckle before the other side of the bed shifted slightly and he opened his eyes, albeit hesitantly, to see that Grimmjow was lying on his side and still naked as the day he was born (but then again, so was he), head propped by his crooked arm.

"Can I help you?" the younger man asked wearily, irritation at having his sleep delayed clear in his voice and the way his toffee brown eyes shot daggers at the beautiful blunette laying next to him.

"Don't tell me yer goin' to sleep in tha bed before we've even fucked on it," Grimmjow said, feigning disbelief even as a grin stretched his lips, still swollen from Ichigo's earlier, not exactly gentle kisses.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do," Ichigo insisted, rolling onto his side and facing away from the man that seemed determined for him to never get any break from that horrendously ample libido. However, as soon as he closed his eyes once more, a warm hand made its way from his shoulder to his hipbone, a very sensitive spot for the orangette and that made him shudder uncontrollably as fingertips danced over it lightly.

He smacked Grimmjow's hand away, ignoring the slight pain that shot up his arm at the action.

_Christ, they had just finished not even three minutes ago. _

"I'm tired, Grimm, so that means _no_," Ichigo chastised his lover, eyes still shut. He ignored the little voice in his head telling him that he sounded like an old housewife.

"But Ichi," that sinfully addictive and husky voice breathed over his neck before a kiss was placed there. " 'M not tired yet. I need ya to fuck me ta sleep," Grimmjow's tone was almost whiny and yet it still took everything in Ichigo's willpower to not turn over and do exactly as the man requested (which was even harder than before because he was starting to feel a little hot and bothered just from the blue-haired man's words.)

"No."

But even he knew that, no matter what it was, he could never say no to Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, not ever, which was how he ended up writhing under the man for most of that night. And loving every second of it.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Ichigo was sleeping quite peacefully, not even the bright summer sunlight streaming in from those massive windows disturbing him. That was, until a buzzing sound that rivaled a chainsaw erupted throughout the formerly silent apartment.<p>

He shot upright into a sitting position and he swore under his breath at both the sudden awakening and the resplendent rays of sunlight that seemed intent on burning his retinas. Blinking through the pain as his pupils adjusted themselves, he saw that Grimmjow was still sound asleep even as the buzzing noise echoed throughout the apartment once more.

"_Grimmjow_!" he whispered harshly, shaking the man's arm despite the ache in his wrists and fingers as he did so. The blunette slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Ichigo blearily and raising an eyebrow in obvious confusion. The buzzing sounded once more and it seemed to rouse him a little bit as he sat up, light gray sheets falling to his waist.

"What _is _that?" Ichigo asked under his breath. Grimmjow scrubbed a hand over his face, leaving a disbelieving stare in its wake. It only puzzled the former even more so.

"Chill, Ichi. 'S just tha intercom," Grimmjow said nonchalantly, throwing the blankets off of his legs and revealing that he had donned some black boxer briefs before falling asleep last night, while Ichigo was still completely bare.

"Intercom?" he echoed, not even startled when the buzzing sound started up again.

"Yeah," Grimmjow got up from the bed, walking over to their door and stretching his arms over his head as he yawned. "I forgot tha' I told Szayel ta come over today."

"Sza...szay," Ichigo struggled with the pronunciation of the strange name and with why his lover was just now telling him that he had told someone to come over to their apartment that day (someone he didn't know from Adam, he might add.) "Who?"

Grimmjow paused at the front door, pressing a button on an ivory box mounted on the wall beside it, the _intercom_ that Ichigo had totally missed in his inspection of the apartment the night before. The blunette didn't answer, instead pressing a button on the intercom that made the buzzing sound stop.

"Christ, Szayel, don't be sittin' on the thing like tha'," Grimmjow grumbled.

"_Oh, I'm terribly sorry, were you sleeping? I guess I was just a little eager; it's been a long time, Grimmjow_," a coquettish but distinctly male voice said from the other side. Ichigo scowled, wondering just who this Szayel was and why he was so eager to see Grimmjow.

"Jus' come up already."

"_Will do_."

Grimmjow turned away from the intercom, padding back over to the dais where Ichigo still sat on the bed, his displeasure clear in his tense shoulders and furrowed brow. But apparently it was too early in the morning for the other to notice these things.

"You should probably get dressed," he said before opening the adjacent door that led to the bathroom and closing it. Ichigo felt a vein start to tick on his temple but didn't say anything, instead throwing the covers off of his still naked form before stomping over to where the few clothes he had brought with him were laid out on the dresser. He pulled on some underwear before getting dressed in basketball shorts and one of Grimmjow's t-shirts (that he may have just worn because he knew it was the blue-haired man's favorite.)

Just as he was done, there was a knock at the door and he briefly considered waiting for Grimmjow to let him open it as it was_ his friend _but decided against it. He would open the door because this was his apartment just as much as it was Grimmjow's.

Flinging the door open, he was met with something certainly unlike what he had been expecting.

_And he had thought his and Grimmjow's hair color was unusual._

"Ah, hello-...well, you're not Grimmjow, are you?" the man that was presumably Szayel greeted, crossing his arms. "You must be Ichigo, then. I've heard _all _about you."

"You have?" Ichigo blurted before he could stop himself, but he had been caught quite off guard with the man's appearance. Szayel was a slender man and not too terrible on the eyes from what he could see, but the man's shoulder-length hair was bright _pink_ for Christ's sake. Not to mention he wore porcelain, trendy glasses and a glaringly, but seemingly expensive white suit and black tie that made Ichigo feel very under-dressed.

"Oh, yes. Grimmjow and I spoke about you on the phone last week," Szayel clarified, not bothering to wait for an invitation before stepping past the orangette and into the apartment.

"You did?" Ichigo asked after closing the door and following the other, completely lost. He noticed that the pink-haired male carried what looked like an old-fashioned doctor's bag that he set down on the coffee table as he "Mhmm"-ed in affirmation. He wasted no time before leaving it there and walking straight up to one of the windows.

"My, isn't this a perfect view," Szayel commented. "Oh, but what's this? Looks as if you need to clean your windows, Ichigo," the strange man pointed to the exact window that Ichigo and Grimmjow had..._christened _the night before. The orangette's face turned red almost immediately as he spotted just what had been left as evidence, causing Szayel to chuckle in amusement.

"Don't tease 'im, Szayel. He gets flustered easy," Grimmjow's voice seemed to come out of nowhere as he suddenly appeared beside Ichigo, now clad in just flannel pyjama bottoms. The orangette clenched his fists, hating how he felt so...so out of the loop, like a child, but immediately stopped as his wrists and fingers protested the movement, causing pain to wrack both of his hands and shooting up his arms. He flinched, but no one seemed to notice.

"How interesting, you were never into the shy ones before, if I remember correctly," Szayel smirked, flipping a piece of cotton candy-colored hair over his shoulder.

"Nah, he's my first shy one," Grimmjow replied sounding almost proud as collapsed onto the leather couch, putting his arms behind his head. Ichigo bit his tongue _hard _to keep from asking just what the hell was going on and settled for clearing his throat instead.

"Oh dear, you did tell him why I'm here, didn't you, Grimmjow?" Szayel adjusted the glasses on his face with a single finger, looking down at Grimmjow's relaxed form. Ichigo crossed his arms, because wasn't it obvious that the blunette hadn't deigned to tell him a thing?

_Not to mention he really wished Grimmjow would put a shirt on for modesty's sake._

"Figured you'd be better at tha'," he shrugged his shoulders, looking completely carefree whilst Ichigo glared murderously at him. If looks could kill, the blue-eyed man would be nothing but ashes on the ground.

Szayel clucked his tongue, shaking his head, before reaching for his bag still on the coffee table.

"I can see that your time in the country has done nothing to sharpen your wit," he sighed, reaching into his bag and withdrawing a small, white pamphlet. Grimmjow only growled in warning, obviously not able to think of a good comeback. Szayel ignored him, striding towards Ichigo and brandishing the piece of paper in his hand to him.

"What Grimmjow should have told you, Ichigo," he started, looking into the orangette's eyes with what must have been the closest he ever got to a sincere expression and making Ichigo relax the slightest bit. "Is that I am a doctor, one that works quite closely with the Espada."

Ichigo felt his eyes widen.

_Espada. The so-called 'company' Grimmjow used to work for...and was doing so again._

"Grimmjow called me last week to inform me that you two were going to be moving to the city and that you have been living with rheumatoid arthritis ever since you were a young child, correct?"

Ichigo's mouth dropped and his gaze flickered from Szayel to Grimmjow, whom was staring at him with an unreadable expression, and back again. He felt a slight sting of hurt that his lover had disclosed that information to someone he didn't even know, but he pushed it down.

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, perhaps a bit too snappily, not taking the proffered piece of paper. Instead, he hid his hands behind his back, feeling a little embarrassed.

Szayel didn't seem to be offended. In fact, he seemed rather amused, his amber-colored eyes twinkling with mirth behind those white frames.

"Well, when Grimmjow first informed me of that, I had to admit I didn't know much about rheumatoid arthritis, but I've done quite the amount of research on it since," Szayel waved the pamphlet in his hand slightly. "And I believe I've found a way to help you."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed and he again looked to Grimmjow, whom was glaring at the floor like it had done something to him, and then to Szayel once more. He didn't know quite what to say.

_The doctors back in Hanging Dog said there was nothing that could be done. And he didn't want to believe that he could finally lessen or even be rid of his condition. _

"Won't you at least take a look at it?" Szayel asked, his usual simpering tone almost completely gone as he gestured with the pamphlet again. Hesitantly, Ichigo reached out and took it from the man's slender fingers to read over it.

"A biologic agent?" he queried almost immediately. He had never heard of such a thing and wasn't sure how it was supposed to help his RA.

"Yes, I would administer the agent to you by IV every day for four weeks and it will suppress your immune system so that it no longer attacks the joints in your hands," Szayel explained, pointing out the information on the piece of paper.

"And...it'll help?" Ichigo asked the obvious question just because he couldn't bring himself to believe something could actually help him. He had lived with RA ever since he could remember, it worsening steadily over the years, until he could barely run his fingers through sky blue, tousled locks without feeling pain.

"Studies show that it will, so I believe so." Szayel strode back over to his old-fashioned medical bag, pulling out a metal rod with a hook on the end that he unfolded several times to turn into some sort of stand that they hung those IV bags on in hospitals. "I'd like to start today, if you don't mind."

Ichigo's coffee-colored eyes swiveled over to meet blue ones that looked so forlorn he could hardly stand it.

"Yeah, let's do it."

* * *

><p>"Cooking school?"<p>

"It's actually a school you go to to learn about making desserts only. And _don't _you dare say it's girly."

Ichigo was sitting on the espresso-colored leather sofa, his legs lying over Grimmjow's lap as the TV played that storage hunting show the man loved so much (Ichigo never got how watching a bunch of people bid for storage rooms was interesting, but to each his own.) He had a stack of forms on his own lap as he had finally decided to open up the conversation about going to _Neliel's Pastry School_.

"Huh, well, considerin' how much ya like sweets, I guess tha's a good choice fer ya," Grimmjow chuckled, eyes still on the TV as two people entered into a bidding war. "How'd ya find out about it?"

"Szayel told me his ex-boyfriend went there and thought I would like it since I said I wanted to go to culinary school but really liked desserts."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, huffing in displeasure.

"Should'a known," he grumbled, causing Ichigo to lightly kick him in the thigh, though being the baby he was, he started whining. "Wha' was tha' fer? Yer so abusive, Ichi," he said, flicking Ichigo in the forehead, which the orangette chose to ignore, not wanting to sink to the other man's level.

"Am not. And you always get so pissy every time I mention Szayel but you're the one who introduced me to him," he tried to reason with the other male, wondering why Grimmjow had such a problem with the effeminate man. Especially since Szayel came over _every _morning to set up Ichigo's IV and stayed with him until the four hours it needed to fully be injected into his system was over. Grimmjow sure hadn't done that.

And yes, he knew that his lover had to be at his _job _nearly every day, all day and sometimes all night, causing Ichigo to nearly die of worry he might add. So, shouldn't Grimmjow be happy that someone was keeping him company so that he didn't have to spend all day_ alone_?

"'S always Szayel _this _or Szayel _that _and _Grimmjow, did you know that Szayel did this_? _Did you know he's on the way to discovering the cure for cancer and AIDS and is going to solve world hunger_?" Grimmjow's voice rose an octave as he mimicked Ichigo, even speaking without his usual drawl in an effort to sound more like the other man, who kicked him yet again.

"Shut up, I do _not _sound like that. And Szayel is the only person aside from _you_ I talk to so excuse me if I don't want to talk about _you _all the time," Ichigo scoffed, removing his legs from the blunette's lap to draw them up beside him. Grimmjow didn't respond immediately, just curled his upper lip in obvious annoyance.

"So are ya gonna sign up for it or what?" he muttered, switching the channel with the remote in his right hand.

"Yes, I am! Happy?" Ichigo threw his hands up in exasperation, grabbing the pen from the coffee table and starting to furiously write his name onto the form, a twinge of excitement shooting through him at not feeling the slightest bit of pain just like it always did whenever he found he could do things without as much of a problem as before. It was while before the voice that he so adored spoke again, in a much softer tone.

"You can write fine now?"

Ichigo stopped writing out his birth date before looking up to see Grimmjow staring at the form he had been filling out with something akin to reverence. He blinked but then grinned, twirling the pen in between his fingers.

"Yeah, Szayel says that if they keep getting better, they could be completely normal by the time classes start up," he informed the blue-eyed man proudly, relieved when the man didn't point out that he had mentioned the pink-haired doctor yet again. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ichigo's forehead in a surprisingly tender gesture, especially since they had been having an argument not even two minutes ago.

"Tha's great, Ichi," he whispered against orange spikes of hair before pulling back. "Now stop bein' such a brat and everythin' will be perfect."

Ichigo was about to retort when a high-pitched trilling sounded from the pocket of Grimmjow's jeans.

"Fuck," the blunette swore before reaching into his pocket and pressing the phone to his ear. "Yeah?" he answered, which meant it must have been someone important on the other line for him to be so respectful as Ichigo had surmised from watching his lover get these phone calls every day since they had moved to Rukongai.

Grimmjow's cyan orbs swiveled up to look at Ichigo before darting away to glare at the fireplace.

"Yeah, I'll be there. Give me five minutes," he said and waited for a response before snapping his phone shut. "Ichi, I gotta-"

"Go. I know," the orangette couldn't keep the displeasure out of his voice, though he knew it wasn't Grimmjow's fault in the slightest. He knew he sounded like a child and if the man didn't do his _job _then they would have never been able to have such a nice place to live in, a _home_, and he would have never been able to have Szayel help his RA and therefore he would never be able to live out his dream of becoming a pastry chef. He owed Grimmjow everything.

As the blunette made to get up off the couch, a weary look in his eyes that tore Ichigo's heart apart, the younger man reached out, glad to be able to fist his hand into the other's shirt and tug him down to eye level without any pain for the first time in his life.

"Be careful," he said sternly. Grimmjow smirked just like he always did before he pressed their lips together in a bone-melting kiss that had Ichigo's toes curling and eyes rolling in the back of his head before the blue-haired man pulled away.

"You got it, Ichi," he said huskily before getting up once again, shrugging on a jacket and disappearing through the door, leaving Ichigo alone. Again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **This story will be known for all of the unorthodox places these two have sex. Trust me, I've got two more smut scenes planned and at least one of them is _very _unusual. And do forgive me for going a bit overboard with the whole apartment description. I watch HGTV too much. And I love a nice Szayel. :3

**Oh and many of you seem to be concerned about one of the characters dying. I would just like to point out that if there was character death, this would be marked as _tragedy_.**

Thanks a million to those who reviewed the last chapter or added the story to your favorites or alerts, you are all stars! :)

**And a question for all my readers. Yes, there will be a 'villian' in this story, but I keep changing my mind about whom I should pick. Any ideas? Who would you like to see as the bad guy?**

**Disclaimer: **I keep forgetting these! I do not own Bleach. The beginning lyrics belong to The Cure.


	4. Purgatory

_This is a turbulent chapter with many, many mood swings. Prepare yourself._

* * *

><p><strong>Blue Collar IV<strong>

**Purgatory**

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is a good idea?"<p>

"Don't doubt yourself, Itsygo! Cayenne pepper and chocolate are a deadly combination...in a good way, that is."

Ichigo was standing over the island of the kitchen in his and Grimmjow's apartment, holding a small bottle full of bright crimson flakes over a bowlful of thick, chocolate cupcake batter. He knew that he had basically perfected the recipe for it ever since he had started baking school two months prior. He had spent many a sleepless night in the kitchen working on it, obsessing over it, not budging even when a voice rough with sleep called from across the apartment to come to bed.

But Ichigo's triple chocolate (white, milk, and dark) cupcakes had earned him a spot in a small baking competition outside of his school and he had won first place and a hundred dollars. That had been the first time he had made money since he had been fired from his job at the steel mill, and it was more than he made in a week there, working full-time.

Grimmjow hadn't been able to make it to the competition as he had had 'work', but Ichigo had been waiting by the door when the blue-haired man had come home that night, nearly tackling his lover to the ground in his excitement and waving the check in his face. The orangette had been so ecstatic that he had let Grimmjow fuck him wildly against the window, which they had only done two or three times since that first day they had moved in. He had even let the blunette watch him as he licked the window clean, not wanting a repeat of their first morning at the apartment.

But! The point really was that Ichigo had finally found something he was relatively good at, talented, even. Or at least that's what Nelliel said, but he thought she was just particularly fond of him because he was one of the few that indulged her split personality; half lively child, half sage adult. Plus he had a feeling she liked calling him 'Itsygo' far too much than any grown person should.

"Go ahead, Itsygo!" the mossy-haired girl cried out impatiently, staring into the mixing bowl with wide eyes. However, the man set the small bottle of cayenne pepper flakes back onto the granite counter top, frowning.

"I don't know, Nel. I know it would taste alright with milk and dark chocolate, but I'm not so sure about the white," he sighed, chewing his lower lip. He looked up to his baking mentor for guidance, finding her gray-green eyes twinkling with both knowledge and amusement as she smiled fondly at him. However, before she said anything she reached to her wrist with one hand to pull a black hair tie off of it, moving towards Ichigo to maneuver behind him. Being that she was the same height as he was, the woman was easily able to run her hands through his sunset colored hair that was now laying on his shoulders. He hadn't bother to cut it because Grimmjow said he liked it longer, though he wasn't so sure. It sort of made him look younger, like he could pass for a teenager, or possibly even a girl (a very masculine girl and you would have to be far away to think he was one, but a girl nonetheless.)

"Now, now, Itsygo. Don't you remember when you were first trying that red velvet recipe with ground orange rinds?" Nel asked, her voice soft and soothing as she worked his hair into a ponytail as she so liked to do whenever she talked to him somewhat seriously. They had gotten very close ever since Ichigo had started attending her baking school, like they were made to be friends, to be in each other's lives. She knew everything that Ichigo had gone through without and then with Grimmjow and he knew about her terrible early childhood as she had been orphaned at the age of one and had been bounced around from abusive foster home to the next until she had been adopted by her two fathers, Pesche and Dondochakka, at the late age of sixteen.

Ichigo winced at the mention of _that _incident.

"Yeah, everyone hated it," he said, hitting the mixing spoon against the bowl with a little too much force in a petulant action. But he didn't ask Nel why she had mentioned one of his biggest mistakes in baking school so far, he knew she was going somewhere with it.

"And what did you do afterwards?" she asked softly, tightening his hair into the hair tie. A few strands of bright tangerine hair still fell into his face but most of it was out of his way now.

"Now I can see," he murmured in good humor, but immediately went back to Nel's question, answering it with a sour taste in his mouth. "I threw it away and apologized to everyone who tried it."

Nel chuckled and she moved from behind him to stand on the opposite side of the island again, shaking her head.

"No, I mean after that."

"I started on a new red velvet recipe...with cherries instead," Ichigo responded, remembering back to the day he had created that cake, one that had earned him a solid A plus in that particular class. "Are you saying I should add cherries instead?" he asked enthusiastically, turning to go grab said cherries from the refrigerator but Nel grabbed him by the sleeve of his red flannel, button-up shirt, the same one Grimmjow had been wearing the first time they had met.

"No, silly! Itsygo, I mean that after you made that God-awful cake-"

"Hey!"

"After you made it, you moved on, you started on a new recipe. You tried something new, but it didn't work and now you're a better pastry chef because of it, right?" Nel smiled brightly, the dark pink birthmark across her nose wrinkling cutely as she did so. With one delicate hand that bore none of the usual scars any chef bears from wayward knives she picked up the bottle of cayenne pepper flakes and put it into Ichigo's larger one. "Trust your instincts and you won't ever be too far off from where you should be."

These were not new theories to Ichigo, they weren't to anyone really, but it was what he needed to hear.

Baking is a silly thing, frivolous and unimportant to most. Ichigo doesn't deny this, but besides his newly found friends in Szayel and Nelliel and, of course, Grimmjow, it's truly all he has. It's the only thing he has that's purely _Ichigo's_, that he doesn't have to rely on anyone else to do, that he can do for other people.

He added just a pinch of cayenne and poured the batter into the trays before setting them in the oven that was already well-loved despite the fact that he and Grimmjow had only lived in the apartment for a few months now and he knew nothing about cooking actual food in the thing.

After he set the timer, he and Nel stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the counters and drinking glasses of the wine the woman had brought over. She had been trying to educate the orangette in the fine nuances of wine but Ichigo thought it all tasted the same and he wasn't a big fan, though he did really like the nice tingling in his extremities and the warm, heavy feeling everywhere else, especially his head. They had just gone through almost the entire bottle and Ichigo was on the floor laughing at something Nelliel had said, wondering when she had gotten so funny, when the door swung open.

From their position in the kitchen they couldn't see the person whom had entered the apartment until they took a few steps in, but it was no surprise to Ichigo when he saw that it was Grimmjow shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the couch (no matter how many times the orangette had told him not to do so.) He felt like running to the man and giving him a kiss he'd never forget for the rest of his life as it had been far too long since Grimmjow had spent enough quality time with him, but he felt quite comfortable there, sitting on the floor, and he just didn't feel like getting up.

He faintly remembered he had forgotten to tell Grimmjow that Nel was coming over, and had in fact never introduced the two, and that was all too apparent when the blue-haired man stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he took in the busty, mossy-haired woman in his kitchen. Ichigo heard Nel drop her wine glass and as it shattered on the hardwood floor. Frowning, he pushed himself off of the floor to stand up. He was a little unsteady but nothing he couldn't handle.

"_Sexta_," Nelliel breathed, a hand going to her throat as she looked upon Grimmjow with wide, frightened eyes.

"Tercera," Grimmjow grunted, sharp eyes roving over the female, his upper lips curled upwards. "Wha' tha fuck are ya doin' in my house?" As if that sentence had snapped him out of his apparent shock, he stalked over to the kitchen with long, powerful strides that had him standing in front of Ichigo in a heartbeat, causing the orange-haired man to quirk a brow.

"I don't go by that name anymore," Nel said, her voice a little stronger as her eyes flickered back and forth between Ichigo and Grimmjow. "Oh, I see, _you're _Grimmjow."

Ichigo was thoroughly confused, which was not in the least bit helped by his slightly tipsy state.

"Um, can someone please tell me what's going on?" he asked. "Do you guys know each other?"

Neither Nel nor Grimmjow answered for a few moments until the latter turned towards him, his sapphire eyes unreadable, not an easy feat considering Ichigo had been with the man for five years and he had thought that he'd seen everything . But there was a mixture of distrust, disbelief, confusion, anger, sadness, concern, and regret and it thoroughly baffled the orange-haired pastry student. He had never even see such a look in Grimmjow's eyes before, not ever.

It was obvious from the way they had reacted to each other, Nel and Grimmjow, that they knew each other, from somewhere. And Ichigo had not had enough wine to not be able to work out that it had something to do with Grimmjow's _job_. Sexta. Tercera. They had greeted each other with those names and he suspected that they had to be in the same language as the name of the organization the _Espada_. The vowels, the fluidity of the words, they were too similar not to be derived from the same obviously romance language.

"I should go. I'll see you in class Monday, yes, Ichigo? Don't forget to tell me how those cupcakes turned out!" Nelliel said in a falsely cheerful tone with an equally fake, bright smile, waving her fingers in a sort of goodbye. Before Ichigo could tell her to stay, ask her why she was acting so strangely, she had moved almost faster than the eye could see, gathering her fall jacket before nearly running to the door and disappearing into the hallway.

The young man stood there, shell shocked at his friend and mentor's sudden departure, mouth wide open as if he were going to catch flies. He absentmindedly placed his half-empty wine glass back on the island and shook his head, trying to clear it of the fuzzy feeling inside that made it a tad difficult to think clearly. Placing a hand to his temple, he turned to look at his lover, at Grimmjow, whom was regarding him with an intense stare.

"What the hell was_ that_ about?" he nearly snapped, the wine in his system making him a little bit more irritable than usual.

"Maybe you can tell me," Grimmjow snapped right back, folding his strong arms across his chest as if to look intimidating, but Ichigo wasn't the least bit put off.

"What is your problem? You're the one who came in and asked my friend what the fuck she was doing in _your _house! And you two obviously know each other! From your job, right?" he pressed, walking closer to his lover of five years and scowling up at him fiercely. "Tell me, I have a right to know."

"And I have tha right to know who tha hell yer bringing in here! Fuck, Ichigo, do ya have any idea who ya just brought in tha house? Do ya know what-" Grimmjow stalled, pursing his lips. His cyanic eyes blazed with an anger Ichigo didn't understand. "Do ya even know what she could'a done to ya when I wasn't here?" His voice had grown quiet, soft. He still sounded angry, but it was more of a 'I'm disappointed in you' kind of angry. Ichigo hated it, it made him feel like a child, and Grimmjow wasn't his father. He had no right to reprimand him.

"What the fuck are you on about? Nel is my _friend_, she owns the pastry school I go to! Are you trying to say she could've taken one of the kitchen knives and stabbed me in the back when I wasn't looking?" Ichigo asked, his tone incredulous.

"Tha's exactly what I'm sayin', Ichigo," the blunette said in a grave tone, his eyes serious. "Ya have ta be more careful 'bout who ya trust! Fuck, I could've come home and she...you..." Grimmjow trailed off, his voice had steadily been getting louder and louder, even louder than it was before. Ichigo wanted to cover his ears but didn't out of pride's sake. Apparently whatever the blue-haired man had been thinking about what could have possibly met him when he'd come home had him in a frothing rage, because he turned and started walking off to the living room, snarls ripping through his throat. If you closed your eyes, you could've sworn you were next to a vicious panther from the sound of them.

Ichigo breathed deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth before following, finding Grimmjow standing by the wall opposite to the windows. His eyes looked wild, unfocused, like a cornered animal.

"God_damnit_!" he roared once before letting his right fist fly into the drywall, shattering the material like a hammer to an eggshell. Ichigo gasped unintentionally and took a step backwards, the sound alerting Grimmjow to his presence. The other man, panting heavily, lifted his gaze to regard him with a furious glare that quickly fell for he must have seen the look on Ichigo's face.

"Ichi, I-" he started, but the orangette cut him off with a motion of his hand.

"I'm going to go take a shower and we can talk about this when I get out," he said simply and turned around before Grimmjow could answer. They both needed to take some time to calm down before they continued into what might be the worst row they'd ever had, a fact that was tearing at Ichigo's heartstrings. After grabbing a change of clothes from the dresser he went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and it was then that he finally let himself collapse, sliding down the door to fall into a heap on the cold, tiled floor.

He tucked himself into a ball, arms around his curled legs and face buried in his knees. There wasn't much warning before the stinging behind his eyes and the lump in his throat became all too much and tears he was ashamed to cry ran down his face, the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes like small crystals.

Ichigo mentally blamed it on too much wine. He never had been able to handle his alcohol very well, but he knew it was much more than that. It was Grimmjow, the fact that he was gone most of the time and Ichigo hated it. He had become pitifully dependant on the other male in the years they had been together in that small house in Hanging Dog, always used to having him there when he needed him, always able to hold him, kiss him, talk to him whenever he wanted. They were all the other had in the whole world and while it had probably been not ideal, Ichigo had gotten used to that. All of the trials they had been through together had brought them as close as any two separate souls could be, and it wasn't something that could be undone overnight.

And their financial problems, the ones that were _his _fault for losing his job and sucking up all of the money for those worthless RA treatments, had forced Grimmjow to move back to the city and reinstate himself in a job he hated, one that took him away from Ichigo most of the hours of the day. And the man had done it all for _him_, to make sure that he could have everything he'd never had before.

Call him trite, cliche, whatever, but Ichigo thought Grimmjow had to be the most beautiful person in the world, inside and out. No one with a bad heart, or even an average one, would do that for anyone else, especially not for him. But Grimmjow's very soul was beautiful and Ichigo knew he had to have been sent from heaven itself, an angel in human form.

His savior.

From the very beginning, Grimmjow had saved him, like the way religious people say their beliefs saved them. It was the very same. They can be damned if they thought him blasphemous, it was the honest to God truth.

And because of his own shortcomings, that angel had been caged back inside Hell out of his own free will.

Ichigo knew that whatever Grimmjow's job was it was highly illegal, and dangerous. He had known that for a long time. Why else wouldn't the man tell him a thing about it? It hurt Ichigo's very soul to not be entrusted with a detail of Grimmjow's life, but he had never pushed for answers about just what his lover had done when he had been with the Espada. He knew Grimmjow had his reasons, no doubt concerned for his welfare should he know too much about things he should have never even known existed.

And he knew that was why the man had been so angry with him when he had come home. He knew Nel through his job, Ichigo was certain of this, and obviously Grimmjow considered her to be dangerous because of that fact even though the orangette could never picture his bubbly and intelligent mentor and friend being involved in big time organized crime. Grimmjow had been upset that Ichigo hadn't known whom exactly Nelliel was and had let her into their home, where anything could have happened.

But Ichigo knew that wasn't it. There was only one reasonable explanation for just how terribly the blunette had snapped.

Something else was going on, something bad, and if he were to guess, something deadly.

* * *

><p>Ichigo emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, having only just stopped the tears from falling from his eyes and the shuddering sobs racking his body five minutes beforehand, having to quickly shower in that time lest Grimmjow come looking for him, afraid he had slipped and cracked his head open on the tile.<p>

His hair was dripping wet still, soaking the shoulders of his cotton black t-shirt and a quick glance in the mirror showed him that his eyes were still bright red and puffy from crying, but if Grimmjow asked he would just tell him he got soap in his eyes. Ichigo thought he may have never looked less attractive. The shirt he was wearing was Grimmjow's and was several sizes too big on him, making him look too thin and frail, and with long, wet hair that was now almost a dark red until it dried and lightened to its natural color that washed out his natural, year-long tan to an unhealthily sallow skin tone and his eyes bloodshot and slightly swollen, he looked an absolute mess. He wanted to turn around and barricade himself in the bathroom, not wanting anyone to see him looking like the walking dead, only worse.

But he had to talk to Grimmjow, he couldn't be any more selfish than he already was, had been when he had allowed the love of his life to immerse himself in a world someone as naturally divine as the blue-haired, angel-faced man should never even be exposed to. He deserved to live in a world full of light, somewhere where Ichigo could protect him for once, shelter him from those that wished him harm. Whatever it took to make his love happy, anything anywhere anytime, he would not wait for his heart to beat before doing it.

His still wet feet slightly stuck to the floor as he walked out, past the bedroom area to where Grimmjow was lying on the couch on his stomach, his still shoe clad feet hanging off the edge as the couch didn't accommodate his six foot three frame. The television was off so instead the apartment was filled with the warm glow of the sun setting over the city's horizon and the sound of Grimmjow's deep, even breathing. He had fallen asleep in those twenty minutes Ichigo had been in the bathroom.

Smiling just the smallest bit he tread over to the couch, the serene expression feeling strange on his face after he had spent a quarter of an hour crying like he hadn't since he was a small child clinging to his mother. Before she passed away, that is. Looking over the back to see Grimmjow's storybook beautiful face turned towards him, he ran a hand over the brow that was still creased with grievance even in sleep. It was even more apparent that something dreadful was bothering his love, and he would wager anything it could potentially harm them.

His mother would have liked Grimmjow, he decided before leaving the blunette to sleep some more while he tended to the now beeping oven.

Maybe she was watching from somewhere, smiling down at them, the only family either of them that accepted them for who they were. Ichigo felt his heart grow warm at the fact that he may be blessed enough to have two guardian angels watching over him. One somewhere else that the human eye couldn't see and one there on Earth with him.

The cupcakes were perfectly baked. He could tell with his now expert eye just from looking at them and he licked his lips. If these turned out as delicious as they looked, he potentially had another contest winner on his hands. Setting the tray on top of the stove to allow the cupcakes to cool before he iced them, Ichigo grabbed the broom and dustpan and began to sweep up the broken glass from when Nel had dropped her wine earlier, barely forty-five minutes ago. It felt like it had been hours since then, but time had never treated him well, making his now scarce moments with Grimmjow too short and pass by much too fast.

Once he had cleaned the floor of the broken glass, Ichigo then made his way to the living area wall where pieces of drywall littered the handsome, dark hardwood he loved so much. He had to work a little bit harder to remove the white dust that seemed intent on sticking to the floor like gum, occasionally sneaking glances over his shoulder to make sure Grimmjow was still sleeping. He knew his lover needed as much rest as he could get these days.

Though Ichigo doubted 'these days' would ever end, not for as long as Grimmjow worked for the Espada.

Sighing at the thought, he finished up and walked over to the kitchen, washing his hands before picking up the tubing of Belgian chocolate truffle icing he had made earlier in the day. Not for the first time that day did he thank Szayel for discovering the biologic agent that had effectively restored full mobility to his hands, rendering him finally able to do all of the normal things most take for granted. Like being able to button his own shirt without Grimmjow's help, or being able to fill out his school forms in his own handwriting, instead of dictating to Grimmjow what to write in that chicken scratch he claims spells out words, or being able to use all of the household appliances whereas before the small little knobs and switches had been too painful to adjust.

He still got a few shooting shocks of pain every now and then, a highly uncomfortable cramp in his fingers here and there. The stiffness and slight ache he still had to work through in the mornings sometimes, and when it rained, but for the most part he could function almost as if he had never had the arthritis. Though when he woke up alone to rainy mornings, when it nearly felt like he was back in Hanging Dog with near unbearable aches and pains in his hands and wrists, he had no lover with the face and voice of an angel to cradle the hurting extremities and kiss them and whisper softly to him that everything was alright before.

Laying in bed wondering where the blunette was until the early hours of the morning until exhaustion forcefully claimed him was not doing anything for the dark circles under his eyes and the fatigue he felt when he was alone at the apartment. When he wasn't at Nel's school or, on the rare occasion, out with Szayel watching the man buy everything from furniture to ascots for astronomical prices, he mostly laid about the house, too tired and anxious to sleep. He couldn't ever stop thinking about Grimmjow, what the man could be doing at that moment, whether he was hurt or...

Or worse.

And that thought only led to nightmares that plagued his sleep regularly. Sometimes he woke from them to find the warm body belonging to Grimmjow sleeping deeply beside him, calming the orangette instantly, but most times his eyes flew open to nothing but an empty apartment and for a few agonizing seconds, Ichigo believed his visions of his beloved lying face down in a pool of dark scarlet blood to be reality.

So lost in thought was he, Ichigo didn't even register that in the background the sound of Grimmjow's deep, even breathing had ceased, so when a fingertip trailed down his cheek he jumped a foot in the air, yelping and nearly dropping the tubing full of icing in his hands. With wide mocha latte brown eyes, he rounded on the only person it could have been.

"Ya had chocolate on yer face," Grimmjow murmured around the finger in his mouth, the one he had used to collect the chocolate truffle icing that had accidentally gotten onto Ichigo's face. "It's good," he said approvingly, but it was forced, awkward, everything opposite of what their relationship was, of who Grimmjow himself was. It bothered Ichigo immensely. He had to say something to cut through the unfamiliar tension so he figured he would just cut right to the chase.

"I know you have something to tell me about Nel, about how you know her." Ichigo sat down his bag of icing and folded his arms across the front of the far too big black t-shirt. "So start talking."

Grimmjow's expression was both hard and soft. Eyes like warm crystal blue ocean water and hard royal blue sapphires at the same time, as if he was trying to be civilized with Ichigo, but the orangette was making it hard. He didn't answer at first, reaching out a hand to caress Ichigo's cheekbone with the back of his knuckles, the touch incredibly light, like a feather brushing against his skin and the younger male had to refrain from shuddering in delight. It had been too long since they had been together physically for anything longer than a kiss before Grimmjow left and after he came home. That in itself spoke volumes about how the stress of the blunette's _employment _was having a great effect on the both of them.

But Ichigo pulled away. He knew if he gave into his more base desires at the moment that he would miss his opportunity to hear from Grimmjow just how he knew Nel, and possibly gain some more information on the clandestine group that was the Espada. This could be his chance to finally find out _just _what his lover did at all hours of the night.

But it seemed Grimmjow wasn't interested in sharing that just yet.

"Ichi, I heard ya in the bathroom," he said in a voice so full of sorrow he didn't sound like himself at all.

Ichigo's lips parted in surprise and he took a step backwards, gaze dropping to the ground. He _hated _crying in front of Grimmjow (which should be quite obvious by now), or even having the other one know that he had done so. He had been raised with the belief that boys didn't cry and while he had certainly defied many of the other beliefs that had been instilled in him as a child, that was one that stuck. Crying was for the weak, the emotional. Ichigo didn't want to be weak, weeping like a child at every little thing, so the tears would just get bottled up until he couldn't hold them in anymore and episodes like the bathroom earlier happened.

Not to mention he felt absolutely miserable if he cried in front of Grimmjow, or the other man knew he had shed tears. His lover did so much for him, always had, and he felt like he had failed Grimmjow by not being happy. After all, wasn't that the very least he could do?

No, he had to become depressed because he was starved for attention. God, how much more selfish could hebe?

Apparently the blunette had an idea of what was bothering Ichigo, so he cupped the other's face in large, capable hands and tilted Ichigo's head up so that red-rimmed fawn brown met shimmering cobalt. The orange-haired male almost smiled at the familiar and yet still hauntingly beautiful sight of those eyes of deepest blue, he was completely at home in those eyes, his very soul probably lived in them.

"Ichi, you can tell me wha's the matter, yeah?"

Ichigo gripped onto Grimmjow's wrists with his hands. He briefly contemplated that Grimmjow was the only person whom had heard or seen him cry since he had entered junior high, and he was the only person Grimmjow treated so tenderly in his entire life, the blunette had said so himself.

"I...I'm just really stressed out by school, there's another contest coming up and-"

"Stop with the bullshit."

It wasn't that the orangette was a _bad _liar. It was just that the other could just _tell_, like he had some sort of lie detector chip implanted in his chip. Giving up, Ichigo let himself fall into Grimmjow's arms, feeling somewhat content for the first time in weeks as he pressed his lips to the blunette's neck, right on the pulse point. A pleased hum was his reward as he contemplated what he would say.

"I'll tell you if you tell me how you knew Nel," Ichigo proposed in an almost drowsy tone. The lack of sleep was catching up with him and he felt like he could just melt right then and there.

Silence. The younger man thought for a moment that his lover would reject the offer.

"Fine, but you go first," Grimmjow said firmly, his tone stern. "Tell me wha' upset ya. Was...was it me?"

Ichigo's heart ripped at the self-loathing, the insecurity, in his beloved's voice that he heard deep underneath the gruff exterior. He knew the other man was referencing when he had punched the wall earlier in his anger and he automatically tightened his hold around Grimmjow's midsection, burying his face in the dress shirt clad shoulder that smelled of autumn woods and apples and a musky, heady scent that was decidedly Grimmjow. If Ichigo thought it possible, he would swear that the blue-haired man exuded pheromones like a jungle cat.

"That was a part of it," the orangette admitted and felt his long-time lover stiffen in his embrace and hastened to explain. "You...you didn't scare me or anything like that, and I wasn't really mad, I just...I was just upset because you were."

Grimmjow made a noncommittal "hn" noise and Ichigo took it as a sign to continue, the blunette knowing that was only the tip of the iceberg.

"And if you must down know, Nel was over here because I couldn't be alone anymore. You're never here, you're always off some place that you never bother to tell me about. And I don't even remember the last time we ate an actual meal together, and let's not even talk about our sex life because _that's _nonexistent. Not to mention I'm always going to bed by myself, alone, just me, and I know that you're out there, doing whatever it is that you do and I-I..." Ichigo trailed off, panting slightly as he stared with almost panicked eyes into Grimmjow's. He was surprised with himself, really. He hadn't meant to say all of that, and the other man hadn't expected him to as well, obvious from the way his thin, turquoise brows were almost touching his hairline, giving him an incredulous expression.

"I just lay there, wondering if you're...gone, if I would know it if you were, if I would feel it if you..._died_," Ichigo's voice had grown to be so quiet, it was almost just a soft, sad sigh. And he was caught by surprise when Grimmjow's arms tightened around him, crushing him to the older man's chest with an almost bruising force. It was a desperate action, he could feel that, and he clutched at the fabric of his lover's shirt, just as he had done when they had first met. Nothing had changed much, Grimmjow was still the only thing binding him to the earth.

"I ain't goin' anywhere for a long while, Ichi," Grimmjow's breath fluttered along his still damp hair and the orangette let his eyes close, enjoying the moment of affinity that had become so rare ever since they had moved to Rukongai. He didn't say what he was thinking at that moment, that Grimmjow had better keep true to that promise, that it may just be impossible for Ichigo to carry on if he were to break it, sad as that may be. It didn't need to be said, it hung heavy in the air around them, unspoken but still very much there.

"I know I'm being selfish, complaining about your job, that it's taking you away from me when you've been able to give me everything I ever wanted," Ichigo elaborated. "I appreciate it more than I can tell you, but...I miss you, I _can't _lose you."

"Ichi, I'm-"

"_Don't,_" the younger male's voice was harsh, even though a small grin quirked his lips as he laid a finger over Grimmjow's mouth, effectively silencing him. "Don't say you're sorry."

The blunette's petal soft lips spread into an amused smirk, his cobalt eyes glazing over for the briefest of seconds as Ichigo surmised he remembered that day that both seemed like just yesterday and so long ago. The orangette had kept him to that silent agreement ever since that day, he would never have Grimmjow apologize to him, not ever. And vice versa.

"Now," Ichigo started, pulling away a little and a more serious expression befalling his now much more radiant face. "Tell me how you know Nel, and...what what it she called you earlier, Se-" but before he could finish his query, Grimmjow's hand was over his mouth in a more aggressive mimic of what Ichigo had done earlier. The somewhat lightened mood was completely gone, those sapphire eyes were hard once again and the amused smirk had vanished into a thin line, blue eyebrows furrowed on a tan forehead.

"I don't wanna hear ya say tha' ever again, ya hear me?" Grimmjow said in a way much like a strict father would to a child whom had uttered a swear word. Usually it bothered Ichigo when the other acted in such a way as he was only six years younger, but he saw that his lover was utterly serious, so he just nodded. Grimmjow removed his hand, only to pinch the bridge of his nose as he walked a few paces away. The very last ray of sunlight was disappearing over the skyline of the city and none of the lights in the apartment were on, leaving them in almost complete darkness.

It was a few long moments before the blue-haired man spoke again.

"I'm not goin' to tell ya everything."

"I know."

Grimmjow turned his head to look at Ichigo, a scowl marring his ethereal face. The latter knew the other had never wanted to tell him even just the bare bones of what it was that he did in the midnight hours, what he had been so desperate to get away from. Sure Ichigo had been able to figure out a few things, the fact that it was highly illegal, dangerous, but also extremely organized, rivaling a Fortune 500 company. That, and it was called _Espada_. But it was about damn time that some of the real truth came out, he was so tired of not knowing.

Not knowing was always the worst.

"Listen ta me, Ichi," Grimmjow started even as his gaze strayed from Ichigo to look out of one of the massive windows, the blue light from the city's lights falling over his face to highlight the contours of his cheekbones, nose, chin. Ichigo wanted to go to him, hold him again, but he stayed his distance. He knew it would be better if the other man could just forget he was there while he told the twisted tale of his past in the very city they were in at that moment.

"I was young and dumb as shit, I didn' know any better, jus' tha' I wanted ta get out of tha hellhole that was supposed to be my home. Ya know 'bout my dad, the bastard that he was," Grimmjow said, still looking through the window as if he was looking into the past.

Ichigo remembered the blunette talking about his father once the entire time they had been together. It had made him grateful for his own, no matter how bigoted the man was, especially when Grimmjow had told him about the steel-toed boots that were his father's favorite. His stomach still rolled in discomfort at the thought of a young turquoise-haired boy with wide cobalt eyes trying to defend himself against a grown man that would don those horrific boots and kick him until he was too sore to even go to school the next day. But he said nothing.

"So fuckin' typical, right? Kid with a mother that abandoned 'im and a father that only kept 'im 'round for tha welfare check and to test out tha baseball bats he stole from tha other neighborhood kids. Kid decides he's had enough of tha' bull so he packs his shit and leaves, only ta find out tha' he doesn't know jack shit 'bout survivin' on his own an' no one gives a fuck about a scrawny thirteen year-old kid and he's left ta sleep in tha gutters, steal food from trashcans. So when tha first person to come 'long and offers him help, he takes it, right? Because he's an idiot and can't see wha' he's gettin' himself into."

Ten seconds passed. Maybe fifteen. Ichigo was too busy biting into his lower lip so hard his teeth broke the skin, trying not to sob aloud for the second time that evening to count. He'd heard this story once before but Grimmjow had downplayed...well, everything. He had known that his beloved had led a rough childhood, but it was just so much more...real at that moment. The man in front of him that he loved so much it physically hurt had been abused by his father from the since he was old enough to start remembering to when he decided to run away and had become homeless at the age of thirteen.

"He was in a white suit, I remember tha', and thinkin' it was weird tha' anyone on that side a' town would wear a white suit. I thought the way he acted was even weirder, no one had ever been so pleasant ta me my entire life, but he offered me a place ta stay and food and water and I was so hungry and fuckin' tired that I followed 'im without a second thought, back ta his house, or mansion, actually. I was surprised when I actually got my firs' decent meal in weeks an' a room all ta myself. I was sure tha' I would wake up with a gun in my face or a blade ta my throat, or...other things."

Ichigo shuddered at the thought of a teenage Grimmjow being subjected to those 'other things', but he still said nothing. He hoped that the story took a turn for the better as it seemed it was about to, for he was still fighting back the tears he refused to let fall.

"But none 'a that happened, and I stayed with him for a week after tha', still sure that the catch was comin'. And it did, but it wasn't wha' I expected," Grimmjow's voice was rougher than usual, his eyes distant as he was still thoroughly caught up in the past, seeing something other than their view of the city street. Ichigo was still speechless, too afraid to even say anything anyway for fear of breaking his long-time lover out of his thoughts. He was scared to hear more, but he _had _to. All this time they had been together, never leaving the other's side for more than a few hours until they had moved to Rukongai, and he had never known. He had never been privy one of the most crucial parts of Grimmjow's past and to say it hurt would be quite the understatement. Yes, he understood the blue-haired man's reasons, but it still made him feel so...unimportant.

"He took me to tha gardens in his mansion, even though it was in the middle of tha city the wall around it were built too high for anyone to be able ta see in from tha outside. There was a man tied to a chair, blindfolded and beggin' for his life, talkin' about his wife, his children, jus' like in tha fuckin' movies. The one who took me in walked right up to tha man and pulled out a Winchester pistol, somethin' that belonged in a museum for fuck's sake. He pointed it right between tha' poor sucker's eyes and pulled the trigger. He never stopped lookin' at me. I didn't even flinch."

Grimmjow shook his head slightly, scrubbing a hand over his face. Ichigo noticed that the man had neglected shaving for the past few days and the cotton candy blue, nearly invisible hairs that were on his face and neck would have looked unnatural on anyone else but him.

"I guess tha decided it fer 'im. He asked me right then and there if I wanted ta become a part of his new project, somethin' called the Espada."

Ichigo's breath hitched.

"I said yes, because, fuck, what else was I gonna do? He said tha' my name wouldn' be Grimmjow anymore. I didn' care, because at that age that was tha name my whore of a mother had given ta me. Then he told me tha' I would be named after 'is favorite number."

It didn't need to be said, Ichigo already knew it.

_Sexta. _

"I was tha first member to join, but over tha next few months, more kids 'round my age started showin' up. Tha's where I met yer friend, tha one wit' the green hair. I knew her by her Espada name; _Tercera_. She was good, really good, but she wasn't cut out fer tha lifestyle, so she left. Never saw 'er again until today, when I walked through tha door to find ya in the kitchen with her." Grimmjow shook his head, a humorless smirk appearing on his visage. "Only you would attend a fuckin' pastry school owned by a former Espada and make them yer drinkin' buddy." He said this all without even glancing Ichigo's way.

The orangette was leaning on the counter top now, his brain trying to process the new information. He still wasn't quite sure as to what the Espada did, but he had a couple of ideas from what Grimmjow had just shared with him. Most particularly from the part when the man that had taken him in, the founder of the Espada, had shot a man in the face with a then thirteen year-old Grimmjow watching. It was obvious to him that that had been some sort of test to surmise the blunette's reaction to carnage and death. Ichigo felt a chill rip through his body and he shivered violently, wrapping his arms around himself.

Grimmjow's gaze finally left the view from the window and he looked back to the younger man, a shocking look of something like disgust on his face. It almost made Ichigo take a step backwards.

"Come on then, I know ya want to ask me, so jus' do it already," the blue-haired male said defensively, his body squaring off against the other man's as if preparing himself for a physical blow.

"What?" Ichigo croaked, his voice somewhat hoarse from holding back his tears. He was honestly confused as to what his lover was talking about.

Grimmjow's eyes softened, but his lips were still pursed in a tight line.

"You want ta ask me...if I've ever killed anyone." At the end of his sentence, his deep voice almost completely disappeared it was so soft, but Ichigo heard him and automatically frowned heavily. He dropped his arms to his sides and stalked forward, bringing himself so that he was head to chest with Grimmjow, staring fiercely up at the other man who, for what was possibly the first time Ichigo had ever seen, looked...afraid. Not nervous or anxious, but very afraid. The smaller man didn't have to ask why; he knew that the other was afraid of what his reaction would be to the answer to that question, which told him all he needed to know.

"I don't care," Ichigo said adamantly, placing a hand on his chest as if making a pledge. "And I don't care if that makes me a horrible person, for not caring. I really don't...the only thing I care about is you, and you're the best person I've ever known. You've done so much for me that it doesn't matter, and it never will."

As Grimmjow's lips sealed over his in a kiss that transcended him to an entirely new dimension, Ichigo would have never imagined that later that night when he would be half-naked in an alley with a gun pointed to his face that it actually mattered quite a lot.

* * *

><p>AN: The mood swings in this chapter are giving me whiplash! :3 Oh and yes, this chapter conflicts with a paragraph I had in the first chapter, when it was written that Grimmjow joined a gang and rose in the ranks. Apologies, that was typed up when this was still a one-shot.

_Also, this story is not supposed to be particular to any religion, and it isn't. I myself do not have a strict set of beliefs, having left the religion I was raised in. You can believe in angels without being Catholic /Christian and I just didn't want to upset anyone, considering they are the general motif of the story and I portray them mostly as how they appear in Judeo-Christian texts, and make references to the aforementioned as well, but it's all for the sake of imagery!__** Again, there is no religion in this story!**_

Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews and favorites! You guys and gals are my little angels, lol! :3

Hmm, perhaps this will be eight chapters now...honestly, I can't tell at this point because words won't stop coming out of fingers when I sit down to write chapters for this story!

I want cupcakes now... :(


	5. Annunciation

**Blue Collar Angel Part V**

**Annunciation**

_Beta'ed by Arisu-Ami-Chan _

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><p>"Ya couldn't have picked somethin' else? Anything else..."<p>

"Nope."

"But I thought ya didn't like romantic comedies."

"Well nothing good is out and it's starting in five minutes," Ichigo said, shrugging, his lips halfway closed around the long plastic straw stuck in a plastic cup the size of his head.

He and Grimmjow had decided after their heart to heart that they needed to spend some time together like all of the normal couples in books and on television did. So the younger of the two had suggested they do something they'd never done before, something so completely mundane it was a wonder and yet not surprising they hadn't , depending on who you asked. But if Ichigo was honest with himself, it had always been a secret desire of his.

The lobby in which they were standing was nearly empty considering it was just after midnight on a Tuesday and decorated in the typical fashion, the deep reds and purples of the color motif only broken up by the multi-colored concession stand they'd just visited lit up with bright lights like the surface of the sun. As they walked to theater number four Ichigo found himself smiling around his straw, trying his best to hide it as he was sure he looked rather stupid grinning like an idiot for no apparent reason whatsoever.

But don't you just ever have those moments where you're with that one person that's sometimes the only reason you bother to ever do anything and you just feel... happy, like nothing is impossible, like everything will be okay? And you don't even _care_ that it's terribly cliche?

If not, then you've probably never been under the influence of love, the wickedly addicting and mind-altering drug it is.

The theater itself was dimly lit, a few patrons scattered amongst the rows of plush, burgundy chairs. An elderly couple sat in the front so that they could squint up at the screen and paired-off teenagers nestled together, some already glued together by their lips, their obnoxiously inexperienced loud breathing audible even over the commercials playing. Ichigo arched an eyebrow but said nothing as he followed Grimmjow's lead.

However, when the man went to take two seats in the middle, the orangette grabbed the hand that wasn't holding a bag of popcorn and tugged him away and up to the very last row, sitting in the far left corner. Stealing a glance up at Grimmjow, he saw that the blunette was grinning viciously even as he took the next seat over. The corner they sat in was so especially dark it made it seem as if his eyes were pieces of neon blue glow sticks as they blazed with a predatory want that Ichigo had missed more than he'd realized.

"Good call pickin' these seats, Ichi," Grimmjow said, leaning in so close the younger caught a trace of his mint scented breath. "Wish I would've taken ya to the movies sooner."

"Yeah, these seats have the best view." Ichigo noisily slurped the sugary soda in his monstrous cup, pointedly training his gaze on the screen just as a red slide flickered on and trying not to giggle.

"_Please note in the event of an emergency, walk, do not run, to the nearest exit_."

He didn't have to see his lover in order to know he was pouting in that 'I'm too manly to really pout so I'm going to cross my arms and pretend like my lower lip isn't jutting out' kind of way. Grimmjow also put his feet up on the seat in front of him, huffing.

It was so much fun to tease the man that it should be a sin.

* * *

><p>The previews and first twenty minutes of the movie passed by in a generic, unfunny blur and it was then Ichigo decided he'd tortured the blunette long enough, especially since the movie was unbearably dull. Plus Grimmjow looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, eyes heavily hooded and large body slumped in his seat bonelessly.<p>

Tossing the cup, now empty as he'd drank the last of its contents ten minutes ago, onto the floor Ichigo reclined to his left, his head falling into the familiar resting place on Grimmjow's shoulder, the man's deliciously masculine, tanned neck barely an inch away from his mouth. He had felt his blue-haired lover stiffen at the first touch, eyes snapping open, but relax as fast as only a person so used to another's presence could.

"You tired, Grimm?" Ichigo said, breath fanning over the flesh of that neck.

"Nah, this movie's jus' shit." Grimmjow shifted in his seat the most he could with the orangette's head on his shoulder, endearingly trying to seem as if he hadn't been about to take a catnap right there in the theater.

"You don't like it? I think it's funny."

Ichigo bit his bottom lip hard in order to keep his laughter at bay when Grimmjow's discomfort rolled off of him in tangible waves as he obviously tried to think of a response that wouldn't be inflammatory. His partner must really see him as some kind of woman if the man thought he liked this boring as hell chick flick and that he'd melded their upper bodies together without having some kind of impure thoughts running through his mind.

Well, he would just have to change that.

"It's fine, jus' you know...not really my thing." Grimmjow ground his teeth together audibly, a sign he was uneasy, and it was that little action that snapped Ichigo's tenuously strung sense of control. He would never understand why the other still tried to placate him even after five years of being together and it made his entire body feel like it was burning with a fire that begged to be put out.

Darting forward those few inches that separated his lips and Grimmjow's, Ichigo initiated a bruising kiss, the blunette's startled grunt only spurring him on. He threaded his fingers through those sky blue locks of hair and held fast as their lips parted at the same time, tongues meeting in an already furious pace, slick flesh sliding against each other. The sensation was overwhelming and the orangette could taste the saccharine flavor of soda and underneath it the achingly familiar sweetness of peppermint and rain, that taste he'd first been introduced to in a low-rent motel room.

God, how long had it been since they'd kissed like this?

Too long.

Ichigo felt the other male's broad hands grip his hips and then he was being pulled to fully straddle Grimmjow's lap, unwilling to part even for breath as they kissed each other into the next century, the former sure that he would pass out soon from the lack of air but not caring much at all.

"Hey, we're trying to watch a movie here!"

In a horrific action the blue-haired man tore his lips away, Ichigo whimpering at the loss as his clouded mind slowly caught onto the fact that someone was yelling at them.

"So?" he heard Grimmjow say in a low voice that dared only someone with not one brain cell to respond. The orange-haired male craned his neck to look over his shoulder to see that it had been one of the teenagers, a boy that stood facing them while the girl beside him tugged on his sleeve, the intent to get him to sit down and leave well enough alone clear.

"I...I...," the boy trailed off, apparently not so stupid as to say what he'd originally planned to. "I'll get security."

Grimmjow's barking laughter made everyone in the theater flinch, except for Ichigo who reluctantly slid off the blue-haired man's lap to stand up.

"Let's just go," he said, grabbing the other's hand in his to pull Grimmjow out of his seat. "It's not like we could finish this here anyway."

The blunette's viciously beautiful grin and lusty eyes were dazzling even in the dark theater, he then using their clasped hands to lead Ichigo down the aisle and to the exit at practically warp speed.

"I beg ta differ, but it wouldn't be fair if they got two shows for the price of one," he said as they passed the elderly couple whom Ichigo suspected probably would've been scandalized had they better hearing.

They ran as if chased by cops through the lobby, earning bewildered looks from the few there, and into the night darkened and deserted street.

Ichigo knew they were only a few blocks away from their apartment, a ten minute run, but he'd been Grimmjow deprived for weeks now and that did _things_ to him. It made the more extroverted side of him, the one only his blue-haired savior could invoke, make its appearance and a coy smile to materialize on his otherwise angelically innocent face.

He didn't want to wait, _couldn't _wait. So, going back to the apartment just wouldn't do.

"In here, Grimm!" He dashed into the opening of an alley, dragging his lover behind him. A quick survey of the area showed that it was near pitch-black and that the narrow alleyway stretched on for so long he couldn't see the end. But they were in a more residential part of Rukongai, a world apart from the city's inner slums, so surely there was nothing to fear here.

When Grimmjow didn't say anything, Ichigo glanced back to see the man staring into the abyss of the alley with a furrowed brow. It was decidedly odd. He'd thought the blunette would have been all to eager to indulge in a public place.

Perhaps he just needed some convincing, because there was _no_ way in hell Ichigo was waiting until they got back to their apartment to finish what they'd started.

"Come on," he said, sauntering forwards in a manner that was only reserved for special and rare occasions when he was the initiator of their favorite pastime. He placed his hands on the other man's chest and looking up through dark eyelashes in an uncharacteristically coquettish move. "I want you inside me right now and I can't wait any longer, Grimm. Let's do it right here."

Ichigo almost never made the first move due to the simple fact that he could make things more interesting by saying no, or at leasttrying to. Grimmjow, however, had no qualms about giving in as soon as offered and in the next split second the orangette found himself pinned to the flat surface of a brick wall, legs spread to accommodate the other between them.

"Damn, Ichi, it just ain't right for you to say shit like that." Grimmjow's mouth was right next to his ear and his voice had dropped an octave, the deep rumbling he spoke in sounding half animal and half man but all predator, the lion to the younger man's gazelle. "I could come just from hearin' ya talk dirty, ya know that?"

Ichigo let out a breathy sigh, wishing he had the wits about him to tell his lover he could do the same by listening to his rough velvet voice. Instead, he had to settle for grinding into Grimmjow's already prominent denim-covered erection with his own, earning a low growl that made him buck his hips and put more effort into the action. How he delighted in the fact he could elicit such a reaction from someone so... _gifted_.

Their lips met again, hot and harsh, Grimmjow biting and sucking the orangette's lower lip, white teeth tearing into the reddened flesh. Ichigo moaned and reached out to paw at the button down shirt the other wore, trying to expose as much muscled, bronzed flesh as possible to his hooded eyes that were now nothing but vessels of melted caramel and chocolate syrup.

Hands jittery with the rush of being physical with his beloved again the buttons proved to be a formidable enemy and Ichigo didn't even ask before separating the shirt forcibly, the damned things popping off. His spoil of war being the great mass of delectably defined planes and angles that was Grimmjow's torso, he figured the shirt was a small price to pay.

The blunette didn't waste any time before returning the favor, a warm hand sliding underneath the jacket and t-shirt Ichigo wore to smooth over the sensitive skin of his stomach, mouth moving from now bruised lips to nip and lave along his jawline and throat and doubtlessly leaving crimson and lavender marks all over. Grimmjow then in one swift motion unzipped the slighter male's jacket, throwing it to the ground before pushing the t-shirt up to reveal Ichigo's lithe form.

"Yer so fuckin' beautiful," he said against the other's lips, not giving him a chance to respond before kissing him thoroughly and plucking one rosy nipple with his sinful fingers.

Beautiful isn't exactly the compliment a man wants to hear from his lover, but the orangette was always euphoric when Grimmjow said it to him. He didn't deserve it, he wasn't the beautiful one in their relationship, but that word made his heart feel like it would explode from all of the affection he'd have for the man.

Even if he'd never believe it to be true, hearing someone like his lover, so divine, so perfect, praise him was exhilarating.

"_You're _beautiful, Grimm, you are," he managed to say in between gasps of pleasure, aware he didn't make much sense but not caring one bit. When Grimmjow shifted Ichigo's body higher and whilst keeping him steady with one hand on his hip deftly unbuttoned his jeans, he mewled in impatience, thrusting into the air wantonly. "Hurry up," he said, whining like a spoiled child and grasping turquoise locks of hair probably a bit harder than he should've.

"Wha's the magic word?"

"Now!" Ichigo said, trying to sound forceful but his breathlessness betrayed his desperation. He _needed _more, needed to feel every bit of the man he loved all over his skin.

Grimmjow smirked like the Devil himself and somehow using only one hand pulled the jeans off of Ichigo's legs and over his tangerine converses, tossing them to join the jacket on the ground somewhere. The orangette didn't even notice the chilled autumn air on his bare skin when the man brushed over the now damp head of his manhood through the cotton fabric of his confining boxer briefs with the tips of his fingers. Ichigo bucked up with his hips, but Grimmjow moved his hand away, chuckling under his breath.

Frustrated, the orange-headed man reached to grip Grimmjow's hand in his own and bring it back to his most intimate area, but was thwarted when the latter captured his wrists in one broad hand and pinned them to the wall over the mussed locks of tangerine hair, the blunette clicking his tongue in a chastising manner.

"Patience is a virtue, Ichi," he said, ivory teeth gleaming in the darkness as he grinned wickedly.

Ichigo moaned, it was so deliciously erotic to be dominated and he loved it, but he wanted to get to the main course already.

So impossibly hard that he decided to use the only weapon in his arsenal, the younger male looked straight into the other's phosphorescent ultramarine eyes with his own heavy-lidded ones.

"Stop teasing me, Grimm, I can't take it. I want you so bad, baby."

Little known fact; it was the only weapon in his arsenal because it was the only one he ever needed.

Grimmjow growled, a profound, thundering sound that came from the chest and crashed their lips together, lips that knew the other better than themselves and still ached for more. He then heeded Ichigo's request to hurry things along and slipped his hand inside the orangette's underwear and wrapping it around the throbbing erection there.

Ichigo cried out in relieved bliss into his blue-haired beloved's mouth, involuntarily shuddering as Grimmjow stroked that sensory flesh. It was like he'd never realized just how long it had been since their last spell of physical display of desire so deep in their veins that everything else outside of their embrace was pointless. He was just about to tell the man to stop or slow down because his peak was nearing too fast, when Grimmjow's hand stilled completely, and so did the rest of the man, his body one second draped over Ichigo's, pressing them together as close as possible as they writhed against each other, and then the next he was stone, not moving an inch.

"Grimm?" The slighter man's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but his confusion was still clear. What had made the other suddenly freeze up?

It was a few seconds that felt like an eternity later when the blunette spoke, withdrawing his hands from Ichigo's from their places on his body.

"Listen ta me, Ichigo. Don't move, don't speak, don't do anything unless I tell ya to, I mean it." he said, letting the orange-haired male slide down from his position against the wall. Ichigo's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, utterly lost, but one look at Grimmjow's face showed that the man wasn't kidding around. "If somethin' happens, you _run_, got that?"

"Grimmjow, you're not making any sense. What do you mean '_if something happens_'?" Ichigo started to feel panic rise up in him, not entirely sure why, and all too aware that he was in a dark alleyway dressed only in a t-shirt, underwear, and bright orange converse sneakers. It suddenly felt so... _wrong _around him, a twisting in his gut making him shiver at the unmistakable, instinctual sensation of fear.

"Yes, _Sexta_. Don't you mean _when _something happens?"

Ichigo knew his eyes were as big as saucers as his head snapped to the side of the alley that looked like it went on forever, where the unfamiliar voice had originated from. However Grimmjow pivoted so that he stood right in front of him, facing the opposite direction. After a second of hesitation, the orangette peeked around the broad shoulder at eye level in order to see, hands clutching at the fabric of Grimmjow's shirt.

From the shadows emerged three figures, all male, and arranged in what was probably an unintentional age progression. The one at the left appeared to be in his late teen years, while the man in the middle was in his early to mid- thirties and the last on the right was an older man definitely past fifty.

The man in the middle had been the one whom had spoken and he walked a few steps ahead of the other two. He was tall with nondescript facial features and dark hair that was nearly shoulder length, slicked back at the top, and was wearing a black jacket with an off-white fur collar. But this was all insignificant compared to the silver metal gun dangling from his left hand.

Ichigo didn't really know anything about guns except he didn't particularly like them in the hands of a stranger he was face to face with in an alleyway after dark.

Grimmjow didn't answer the man's question verbally, scoffing as if completely underwhelmed.

Ichigo wanted to slap the blunette upside the head. Was he _insane_?

Then it clicked, the pieces somewhat coming together. Grimmjow knew this person, they had to be related to the _Espada _somehow, but beyond that the orangette hadn't a clue. He shifted from foot to foot anxiously behind his lover's bigger form, the chilled autumn air and dread making goosebumps raise over his half naked form.

"But it's about time for something to happen, don't you think so? Five and a half years is a long time," the man in the middle said as his younger companion spat onto the ground, the latter resting a hand holding a gun similar to the other's on his shoulder.

"I guess it would be if ya wasted it lookin' fer someone ya couldn't ever find," Grimmjow said, and Ichigo could picture a smug smirk plastered on his face as the newcomer's lips twitched, the only sign he was bothered by the statement.

"Might I ask who that is hiding behind you? It's impolite not to introduce us."

"Picked 'im up and didn't want to bring him to my place," the blunette said easily, shrugging his shoulders.

Ichigo wasn't stupid enough to be offended. If his long-time lover was saying that about him, it was protecting him somehow. Hopefully this man would believe the lie.

Said man's gaze drifted down to lock with the orangette's, his dark eyes cold and apathetic, and Ichigo instinctively tightened his grip on Grimmjow's shirt.

"I see... this must be a different orange-haired young man than the one you were spotted with last week? And the week before that? You certainly have a specific type, _Sexta_."

This man that had snuck up on them essentially not only knew that Grimmjow was lying about who Ichigo really was to him, but also he or someone he'd hired had been _watching_ them. The thought made the orangette sick to his stomach, bile rising up in his throat as his sense of privacy was completely shattered; he felt violated.

"Must be," Grimmjow said as if he were talking about the weather. "And yer employees aren't very discreet. I think it was just 'bout eight of 'em I took back with me to Las Noches at last count."

_How could he be so calm?_ Ichigo wondered.

"Then I thank you for weeding out the incompetent ones for me." The man cocked his head to the side, using his right hand to stroke his chin in a contemplative manner. "I just cannot understand, however, if you knew I was coming for you at any given moment why you'd take the only person you ever loved into the thick of things."

Ichigo stared at the man like he'd grown another head. How could he possibly know all of the people Grimmjow had ever loved in his entire life? This entire situation was getting stranger and stranger with every word said.

"Why would you take your beloved lover out into the free-for-all that is this city, _Sexta_? You've most likely the most enemies than any other single person here and yet you seem not to take any major precautions to guarantee his safety. You may as well have painted a bull's eye on his back."

"Shut yer damn trap, Ginjō," Grimmjow spat, composure cracking under the accusations he recklessly put his lover in danger. "Just because you couldn't protect your _beloved lover _doesn't mean the rest of us can't either. How long did he last in this city, anyway? Two months? Three?" The blunette laughed cruelly and his loss of composure was nothing compared to the sudden rage that twisted the man, Ginjō's face.

"I had taken every measure to make certain he was safe, _Sexta_, and he still died, so perhaps you're correct; I couldn't protect him from your idiocy," he said, taking several steps forward but not raising his gun. He was about fifteen feet away now, Ichigo noted, and his beady eyes kept traveling back and forth from him to Grimmjow and back again.

"It's a mistake I won't make again, but unsurprisingly the real idiot here is you, thinkin' yer pathetic after-school club could ever replace _Espada_." The blunette chuckled, his tone dripping with sadistic mirth.

"I'm flattered, but really you shouldn't be too worried about _Xcution _being pathetic, not when I will soon make you wriggle like a worm on a hook." Ginjou's lips quirked into a small smile.

"You should know by now you and yer little pissants can't touch me," Grimmjow said in his arrogant way, clearly unimpressed. Ichigo felt a new wave of respect for his lover, never backing down even with two, probably three, guns on the opposite side. Some would think the man brain-dead to do such a thing, but Ichigo only saw it as bravery.

Nevertheless, he was for the most part lost as to what they were referring to except the parts about him; despite knowing Grimmjow and _Espada _were involved in illegal activity, he'd never realized he was in any kind of imminent danger. He'd been too worried sick over the man to think of that.

"Perhaps," Ginjō said. "But I've decided that chasing after you has been a waste of time these past five and a half years. You will not truly suffer for what you've done if I kill you, or even if I torture you. No, you see, I just figured out that the best way to reward you would be...what's the phrase again? Oh right, an eye for an eye."

Everything happened so fast then Ichigo had a hard time keeping up with it all.

Ginjō had raised his gun while he'd been speaking, cocking it, and at the very last second he'd jerked his arm so that the barrel was no longer pointing at Grimmjow but at the place where the orangette's face was peering from behind the blunette's back.

Ichigo inhaled sharply, eyes widening in terrified shock. He knew he should have moved then, but it was like he was frozen still, unable to move an inch as he stared at the end of the gun as if it was Death itself, which it very well could have been had he not then been pushed to the ground harshly by Grimmjow's hands.

He fell to the concrete on his knees, looking up and unable to blink as he saw his lover then reach into the waistband of his jeans to withdraw a handgun even larger than those the others carried faster than the speed of light. Ichigo barely had time to wonder how the hell he'd never noticed that Grimmjow was packing heat before he felt his heart stop, realizing fully just what kind of danger they were in.

"Tha' was stupid of you, Ginjō. I was goin' ta let ya live, ya know, out of pity," Grimmjow said, lethality dripping from his words. "But now I'll have to kill ya."

Ginjō growled, but it was nothing compared to the blunette's fearsome jungle cat impression.

"You can't disarm and kill all three of us _and _protect your lover, _Sexta_," he said, not lowering his gun. "You're out of practice."

"Is tha' so?"

In a motion almost too quick for Ichigo to see, Grimmjow cocked and directed his gun behind the other man, the sound of the gunshots and resulting yells of pain deafening in the alley as the two men behind Ginjō clutched their hands, weapons clattering to the ground. The orangette gasped as he saw that his lover had managed to put bullets right through the hands that had been holding their guns before he pulled the trigger once again, aiming for Ginjō.

The lucky man somehow dodged at the last second, bullet whistling past his head as his face distorted in fury as he saw his lackeys had been disarmed. Grimmjow let out a barking laugh and cocked his gun again.

"Moe, Giriko, grab the boy, you idiots!" Ginjō said, backing up a few steps and pulling the trigger on his own gun a few times. There was no way that at twenty feet away the blue-haired man would've had any time to avoid them, but impossibly he did, sidestepping with precise movements Ichigo had been sure only existed in the movies. To see his lover, the man he'd thought he'd known like the back of his hand, doing them was unreal.

The two men behind Ginjō glanced at each other before then edging along the walls of the alley to approach where the orange-haired youth was still kneeling on the concrete in a mock seiza position, though he fell back to place weight on his hands, ready to scramble his feet, though he had no intention of running. There wasn't a chance in hell he would leave Grimmjow behind.

However, before anyone could do anything more, another distinctive thunderous popping sound reverberated through the alleyway. The latter grunted as the gun he was holding and his hand jolted sideways, and though Ichigo couldn't make out much in the pitch-black night he knew that a bullet had just lodged itself in the gun itself, but it hadn't come from Grimmjow's gun barrel.

"Aw shucks, looks like tha' shot went straight through tha safety and trigger assembly, guess yer screwed."

Ichigo whipped his head around against his better judgement to search for the source of the unknown voice.

At the mouth of the alleyway were two figures, one incredibly tall and thin - male and the other shorter, yet still tall but with a much more noticeably shapely figure - a woman. In the dim light from the streetlamps and the buildings around them, he saw the man had light hair that looked almost like a lavender-tinted silver, his lips stretched wide in an eerie grin, and wore a white trench coat with an upturned collar. He was definitely the one who had spoken. The woman was golden blonde and dressed in a midriff bearing white sweater whose turtleneck neckline was high enough to hide the lower half of her face; she was holding a smoking gun in front of her, the biggest one Ichigo had seen that night so far.

"More _Espada _scum," Ginjō said, spitting out the foreign word like a piece of tasteless gum. "I guess you didn't really trust yourself to protect both you and your lover, _Sexta_."

"Can't take any chance when it comes ta my _beloved_," Grimmjow said mirthfully. Ichigo noted that his lover never took his eyes off of the three men in front of him despite the new arrivals, but he did lower his gun, tossing it to the ground so that it skidded to a stop right in front of the orange-haired youth. "And now I can kill all three 'a ya with my bare hands."

The tone in which he said this had Ichigo shuddering. He'd never heard the blunette sound so manic and downright... _bloodthirsty_. It was utterly unnerving.

"_Sexta_, let them go." The blonde woman's voice was like ice. "I would run if I were you, _Xcution _members." The two silent partners of Ginjō's had no qualms about taking her advice, turning and sprinting down the alleyway, leaving blood trails on the concrete beneath them even as they held their injured hands to their bodies. Ginjō, however, stood his ground for a few more seconds.

"You made a grave mistake once, _Sexta_, and no doubt you will again," he said, starting to recede back into the shadows deeper in the alley. "And when you do, I'll be there to avenge Tsuki's death and I'll be sure to make sure the boy suffers before I kill him."

Grimmjow snarled, baring his fang-like canines and went to take off after Ginjō but the silver-haired man darted forward and held him by the collar of his still open shirt.

"Now now, Grimmy, it was Aizen's orders ta let tha lil' cockroaches scuttle away," the man said in a lilting tone, almost sounding like Szayel except for his distinct, dialectal accent. The blunette grunted and swatted away the hand holding him, pivoting on his heel towards Ichigo, sapphire locking with ochre.

"Ichi," Grimmjow said, almost as if the orangette's name was a sigh of relief. He took a few steps forward, hands outstretched, but paused, looking incredibly and unusually hesitant.

Ichigo exhaled shakily and with equally unsteady arms, pushed himself to stand on legs that quaked slightly underneath him. The adrenaline rush that came with fearing for one's own life, and even more so their lover's, was fading, leaving him with a feeling akin to a caffeine crash, tired and dazed.

"Grimm," he breathed, not caring they had an audience when his legs gave out on him and he fell into Grimmjow's embrace. Everything was almost all right again when those strong arms encircled him like safety and security embodied.

Lips pressed to his head through his spikes of tangerine hair and that unnatural, familiar, unmistakable body heart surrounded him, warming his body even in the night's bitter weather. Ichigo closed his eyes but saw nothing except for the gaping maw of a gun barrel in his face and pointed at the one person he truly cared about losing. He shivered violently and the arms around him tightened their hold.

"Grimmjow, I know the boy is traumatized but we cannot afford to linger here. Aizen is expecting us," the frosty, emotionless voice of the blonde woman said. The blunette must have nodded in acquiescence because then he was dressing Ichigo in his jeans and jacket, the latter barely registering what was going on. It felt like he was living inside of a dream, everything was sort of... fuzzy.

"I reckon tha poor thing's gone inta shock."

Grimmjow made a humming noise then and the orangette felt his chin being gripped in a broad hand.

"Ichigo, come on, snap out of it. Ichigo!"

A short stretch of silence and then a sharp smacking sound registered in Ichigo's mind before the stinging pain in his cheek did. He blinked several times, hand reaching up to cradle his cheek as clarity began to return to him.

"You slapped me," he said softly.

"Shit, Ichi, I'm sorry but you were goin' into shock," Grimmjow said, hastening to explain. The younger's toffee brown eyes narrowed then, his hand dropping from his face to curl into a fist. A fist that made its harsh presence known across his lover's jaw. "Ah, fuck!"

"What the hell, Grimmjow!" Ichigo said, pointing a finger in the other's face. "What did you freaking slap me for? And _who_ are they?" He then trained his pointed index finger onto the blonde woman and the silver-haired man.

"We are members of _Espada_," the former answered, her emerald green gaze nearly looking amused.

"Right..." Ichigo trailed off, turning back to Grimmjow who was rubbing his jaw that was swiftly turning bright red and would be sure to bruise. "Oh, and do you mind telling me why the _fuck _that psycho wanted to _kill _us?"

"Ooh, he's a firecracker, ain't he, Grimmy?" The silver-haired man giggled behind the upturned collar of his trench coat.

"Yeah, more like hellcat," Grimmjow backed up when he saw the fire that raged in Ichigo's eyes at the comment. "Okay, Ichi, look," he said, huffing. "I'll tell ya everything when we get back home, all right?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible. Aizen gave direct orders to return after the _Xcution _leader and his minions left the scene," the blonde woman said.

"Fine, I'll jus' drop Ichigo off at our apartment and-"

"The boy is to return with us," she interrupted, crossing her arms under her impressive bust as she'd already tucked her gun away and out of sight.

"No," Grimmjow said, lips set in a thin line, his tone expressing his displeasure. "Absolutely not."

"I'm 'fraid it's not a' option. The silver-haired man reached out with one hand to place it on Ichigo's shoulder despite the warning growl he was given. "Aizen already has somethin' in mind fer tha two a' ya," he said, then turning his mildly creepy closed-eye wide grin on the orangette. "Ichigo, is it? Gin Ichimaru, the _Espada_'s second in comman' at yer service, and tha' ova there is Tier Halibel, _Tercera Espada_."

"I, uh... nice to meet you," Ichigo said, looking between the man he now knew as Gin and Grimmjow, who was still scowling heavily, eyes like cerulean fire.

"Aizen knows what he's doin'?"

"Has he ever failed before?" the blonde woman, Halibel, said.

The blunette nodded once, gripping Ichigo's arm and pulling him away from Gin and to the still empty street.

"Ta Las Noches it is then!"

"Yeah, yeah, let's jus' get tha fuck outta here before tha police show up."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I apologize for the wait on this chapter and the sort of cliffhanger. Only **two **more chapters after this! One long one that will bring us to the dramatic climax of the story and then the possibly even longer epilogue from Grimmjow's POV. Ugh, can you believe this was originally intended to be a two-shot. :P

I would like to thank all of you for reviewing and adding this story to your favorites/alerts, and special thanks goes to _Arisu-Ami-Chan _for signing up to be my new beta on this story and _faithnfantasy _for sending me friendly reminders to update this fic. You are all lovely!

Drop a line? : )


	6. Condemnation

**Beta'ed by ArisuAmiChan**

_You will all hate me for this chapter. :( Please keep in mind there is **one more chapter after this! **_

**Blue Collar Part VI**

_Condemnation_

* * *

><p>The car ride to wherever they were headed was terse and silent, the only one seemingly unaffected by the situation being the silver-haired Gin who persistently wore that unnerving grin of his that Ichigo was beginning to think never left the man's face.<p>

After Halibel and Gin had convinced Grimmjow to go with them and bring Ichigo along, they'd walked several blocks away from the alleyway, coming to a stop by a luxury town car just as sirens screeched; a warning right before police cruisers shot down the street, the white and navy blue vehicles sending Ichigo's heart rate through the roof. Fortunately, Grimmjow had sensed his nervousness and squeezed those broad, calloused fingers over the orangette's hand, leading him into the backseat of the town car.

The stoic blonde bombshell was driving the car at a pace too slow for Ichigo's liking, though he knew she couldn't very well race the city streets with all of the nighttime traffic not to mention the unwanted attention it would call to them. Gin sat in the passenger side seat, one arm hanging out of the window that was opened so the vehicle was filled with the sounds of blaring horns, shouting pedestrians, and thundering bass-heavy music from clubs as they drove further into the city. Ichigo and Grimmjow were seated in the back, sides pressed together and clasped hands resting in the blunette's lap. Ichigo kept chancing what he hoped were secret glances up to Grimmjow's picture perfect profile, not gaining much comfort from his lover's deep frown, knitted brows, pursed lips, and all.

Halibel drove them deeper into the center of the Rukongai, passing by the night life district and into what Ichigo thought of as the pit of luxury. Lining these streets were the high-rise apartment complexes built by the rich to house the richer, hotels catered to accommodate visiting ambassadors and celebrities, restaurants and boutiques boasting goods with such hefty price tags that if you had to ask how much you could forget it. Though they'd been living in the city for months, Ichigo had never been to this particular area and he momentarily forgot his worries, amazed by the vulgar display of wealth surrounding him. He'd certainly never witnessed anything remotely close to it in Hanging Dog.

It wasn't too much longer, perhaps a minute or so, until Halibel pulled up to a closed garage door on the first level of a glittering skyscraper. The blonde woman rolled down her window, reaching out with an elegant, manicured hand to rapidly press a complex code into a standing keypad. A second later and the garage door slowly rose, allowing them access to what lay beyond.

Halibel drove forward a few more yards into the fluorescently lit garage and then hit the brakes, turning the car off silently. A man with a long, dark braid wearing a white suit seemingly appearing out of nowhere from the left to stand next to the town car. A gloved hand reached out and opened the door by Ichigo's seat, the man bowing forward slightly and gesturing for the orange-haired youth to exit the vehicle. With a questioning look back to Grimmjow, Ichigo did so, never letting go of the blunette's hand, while Halibel and Gin stepping out as well. Halibel let the keys to the car drop into the braided man's upheld palm, Gin walking around the car to stand directly behind Ichigo and Grimmjow.

"The Hokutan bridge will do this time," the blonde said and the man nodded.

"Very well, _Tercera_," he said. "_Cuatro_ and _Quinto_ are waiting for you in the elevator."

"Ahh, isn't tha' nice of 'em?" Gin simpered, throwing his arms over Grimmjow and Ichigo's shoulders despite the formers warning growl. "Let's not keep 'em waitin', then."

The man with the braid entered the town car, starting it up again and in a move Ichigo thought only professional race-car drivers could pull off made a complete u-turn and peeled off back onto the city street, the garage door lowering shut after him. Ichigo gulped but let Gin steer him and Grimmjow toward where the man had come from; the ominous closed elevator doors in the dimmest part of the garage. As long as Grimm was there, Ichigo knew everything would be all right; the man had to trust these people at least a little and Gin and Halibel _had _interfered on their behalf in the alleyway.

Again, it was Halibel who popped open a keypad and punched in a code so extended and intricate Ichigo had no idea how she remembered it by heart. Once she hit the pound key with one French-manicured fingernail, there was a long _beep _and then the elevator doors began to slide open, Ichigo biting his lip as he waited for '_Cuatro_' and '_Quinto_' to be revealed to him and felt Grimmjow brush a thumb over his knuckles, whether it was a conscious movement or not the youth's nerves were soothed a little bit.

A lanky man tall as Ichigo'd ever seen, definitely clearing seven feet, and another male pale and shorter than the baking student, both of them dark-haired and dressed in white suits - though the giant's shirt was untucked, his hair shoulder-length and lacking a tie whilst the other's suit was pristine - awaited them. Ichigo's eyes widened upon seeing the eyepatch the taller of the wore over his left eye and the piercing yet dull stare the other man had trained directly on him. They were both standing on either side of the large space, the long-haired male leaning on the elevator wall as the pale one stood so straight it reminded Ichigo of a soldier under the watchful eye of their commander, hands clasped behind his back.

"So this is Grimm's secret bitch, eh?" Eyepatch guy said, a meanly amused sneer on his face, showing off his large teeth. His eyes drifted down to where Grimmjow and Ichigo's hands were still intertwined, snorting at the sight.

"Now, now, be nice, _Quinto_," Gin chastised playfully, cutting off Grimmjow's predictable insulting comeback and ushering the two lovers into the elevator, Halibel following. "Aizen invited Ichigo 'ere as a guest."

"Che, whatever," _Quinto _said, rolling his eyes as the elevator doors shut. Gin removed his hands from Grimmjow and Ichigo's shoulders, which the orangette was grateful for, but then he felt his boyfriend's hand slip away from his, which he wasn't too thrilled about. However, Ichigo refrained from showing any sign that the action bothered him.

The other dark-haired man turned a key in the ignition on the elevator's panel and pressed the 'PH' button, the elevator jolting upwards before it began to swiftly ascend. Ichigo figured that man must be _Cuatro_, therefore he'd already met four members of the _Espada_ with numbers for code names and one member who used a real name, _if _Gin really was the silver-haired male's name.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Gin, but your party arrived incredibly late," _Cuatro _stated, not sounding apologetic at all. In fact, his tone was the most apathetic Ichigo'd ever heard though it was blatantly obvious that their lateness bothered him. "The others have been awaiting your arrival in the tea room for -" he stopped to check his watch. "Sixteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds now. I need not remind you how intensely Aizen frowns upon tardiness."

"_Re_lax a bit, would ya?" Gin chuckled. "_Sexta _was puttin' on a fantastic show; we _had _ta sit an' watch fer a bit."

_Cuatro _said nothing in response, nor was he given any time to as the next second the elevator came to a stop, a soft tone announcing they'd arrived at their destination of the top floor. Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest in a protective, guarded posture, refusing to move an inch away from Grimmjow's side. He definitely did not like what Gin had just said because it sounded as if he and his blonde companion had sat idly by and watched that psycho and his cronies threaten he and Grimm at gunpoint, but at the moment he couldn't help the slight swell of excitement.

_Finally_, after all these years of knowing Grimmjow, of loving him so unconditionally he willingly allowed the blunette to keep his past life a secret, finally he was going to learn just what it was Grimmjow did at his _'job_.'

_Cuatro _exited the elevator first, then _Tercera _and _Quinto_ followed by Grimmjow and Ichigo, Gin bringing up the rear.

Ichigo nearly had to hold his jaw shut as they stepped into a well-lit hallway floored with gray-white marble flecked with cobalt streaks, the walls painted a light, porcelain blue and lined with several closed doors made of solid, dark wood. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever and situated between those doors were different pieces of modern art, metallic, abstract sculptures and canvasses decorated with multi-hued paint splatters and geometric shapes; all of them had to be worth _millions_, if not more.

This certainly hadn't been the destitute, dangerous locale Ichigo had imagined on those nights Grimmjow didn't come home to him, when he lay in bed alone and the empty space next to him seemed like an externalizationof the hole in his heart.

There was silence as _Cuatro _led them all the way down the hallway, not even Halibel's heels making a sound on the marble floor. When they reached the double doors at the very end of the hallway, Gin circled around to the front of the group and placed a slender hand on each of the doors' handles, turning them and throwing the doors wide open. Ichigo held his breath, waiting for the people in front of him to move so he could see.

Gin, _Cuatro_, _Cinco_, and _Tercera_ all crossed the threshold, leaving Grimmjow and Ichigo in the doorway and a near perfect view of the spacious 'tea room.' Ichigo's grip on his arms tightened as he took in the opulent splendor before him. The 'tea room' looked more like the great hall of a royal family's modern mansion with a ceiling twenty feet high and every last inch of the space colored the purest of whites, save for the single blue orchid in a glass vase placed in the very middle of the long, Eastern-style table standing only a foot or so above the floor. Everything gave off a sense of obsessive purity and around the table were dainty teacups on square saucers and pillows used for sitting - exactly thirteen of them and when the four _Espada _members knelt upon their respective ones there was only one left, to the right side of the man kneeling at the head of the table.

"Ichi," Grimmjow said in his ear, so soft there wasn't a chance any of the other twelve people in the room could hear. "Don't be fooled, this isn't a joke. Show any sign 'a weakness and they'll eat ya alive."

"Grimm, I-"

"Shh," Grimmjow whispered, cutting off Ichigo's uncertain plea before it could begin. "Ya got this. Jus' be yerself."

And with that, Grimmjow was gone, striding over to the place at the right of the head of the table and lowering himself to kneel on the cushion provided. Ichigo felt the loss of his lover beside him like an amputated limb but, remembering Grimm's words of warning, steeled himself and unfolded his arms to stand up straight.

Beside the ones he'd already met, Ichigo sensed the eyes of eight more _Espada _members trained on him, and he inwardly smirked. This was a piece of cake compared to an entire class of students glaring at him every time he walked into the room or a whole town staring at him walking down the street with expressions varying from mild distaste to outraged disgust. He could handle this.

The rest of _Espada _were all men and wearing slightly differing versions of the same white suit and black tie. He spotted one with shaggy, brown hair and hooded blue eyes lethargically surveying him, another whose body proportions bordered on beastly and sported dark hair in a ponytail though his eyebrows were bright red, and a menacing man with dark skin and hawk-like eyes. There was an elderly man with gray hair and mustache, a younger male with bright sea green eyes, inky black hair, and a strange scar along his hairline, and another with long dread-locked hair and dark sunglasses that usually signaled blindness.

Somewhat surprisingly, closest to Ichigo sat a slim man with cotton candy pink hair and saffron eyes behind white framed glasses. Szayel gave no sign of recognition other than the tiniest quirking of his lips.

And then there was the brunette at the head of the table.

_So this was Aizen_.

He was nothing like Ichigo had expected, the man who'd taken Grimmjow in from off the streets and yet refused to let him live in peace when the blunette had decided to leave the 'business.'

Aizen was fairly handsome, with attractive features, brown eyes, and chestnut hair swept away from his face save for one lock dangling over his brow. There was a small, placid smile on his face, hands steepled together over his teacup as his elbows rested on the table, and Ichigo felt like the man was trying to see into his very soul.

"Ichigo Kurosaki..." Aizen said softly, tilting his head slightly. "How long I have waited to meet you."

"I've been wanting to meet you for sometime, as well," Ichigo said, restraining himself from fidgeting or shuffling his feet.

"I'm flattered," Aizen said. "I was not of the belief Grimmjow spoke so often of me."

"Not as much 'often' as _enough_," Ichigo quipped, mentally patting himself on the back; he could participate in a subtle match of wills just as much as this man could. Aizen chuckled throatily, looking over to where Grimmjow was sitting beside him.

"I can see why you like this one, my dear _Sexta_," he said. "It is difficult to find a lover with both personality and a pretty face. You certainly... lucked out, hm?"

"Yea', Ichigo's one of a kind," Grimm answered noncommittally.

"As are you; a perfect match, you two are... " Aizen trailed off, turning back to face Ichigo who was still standing in the doorway. "Grimmjow has proven his devotion to you, Mr. Kurosaki, more times than you will ever know. My question to you is: are you willing to do the same?"

"Aizen -"Grimmjow began to say in a threatening tone but the brunette head of the _Espada_ interrupted him.

"Mind your manners, Grimmjow," Aizen said, not missing a beat. "Mr. Kurosaki surely can answer such a simple question."

Ichigo wasn't entirely certain but in Aizen's mild way of addressing him, he thought he could pick out in the words not aggression or a veiled threat or even condescension but... _cattiness_. Fortunately, it only threw him off for a split second.

_No weakness_.

"I would do anything for him," he declared, a few of the _Espada _members' eyebrows raising at the resolution behind his proclamation.

"Anything?" Aizen asked, lowering his hands to grip his teacup delicately and lift it to his lips. "Even risk your own life?"

As the man sipped the tea no one else was drinking, Ichigo couldn't help but think the entire scene was like that of a movie's. Except this wasn't a movie and he had no doubt that Aizen's question was a prelude to something, something _big_, and the path Ichigo's life would take depended entirely upon his answer.

"No shit."

Though apparently as infallible as the greatest fortress, Aizen's lack of an immediate response confirmed that the orangette had taken him by surprise. Ichigo saw Grimmjow's lips twitch as his boyfriend fought not to grin even though pride shone in those deep ocean orbs.

"It seems Mr. Kurosaki also shares your spirit, Grimmjow," Aizen finally said, placing his teacup back on its saucer. "It will serve him well should he accept my proposition."

Ichigo's heart leap up into his throat and his hands clenched into fists by his sides so they wouldn't fidget anxiously and give away his growing unease. What exactly did 'proposition' mean? He still didn't know _precisely _what it was the organization did, only that it was highly illegal, not to mention _profitable_, involved shootouts in alleyways next to movie theaters and wearing all-white ensembles.

Would accepting Aizen's proposition truly endanger his own life or was the man just testing him? Ichigo didn't think the man was one to make jokes often.

"_Proposition_?" Grimmjow spat in Aizen's direction, tone diminishing from angered hiss to dangerous whisper Ichigo had to strain to hear. "You _swore_, Aizen."

"I believe I swore_ I_ wouldn't purposefully involve Mr. Kurosaki in our organization's activities," Aizen said, unfazed. "I have upheld that promise considering it was _you_, _Sexta_, who did so."

Ichigo scowled at witnessing someone talk to his blue-haired lover in such a way and was disappointed when Grimmjow didn't say anything to defend himself, merely growing under his breath and lowering his gaze to his lap.

"You're not planning on making _him_ an _Espada_ are you, Aizen?" the elderly man demanded gruffly.

"Ah, Barragan," Aizen sighed. "Do not be so quick to jump to conclusions. While I have no doubts Mr. Kurosaki would make a wonderful addition to our little family here at _Espada_, it is my knowledge that the young man is already a student at a pastry school run by our former _Tercera_."

"Hahahah, ya mean he makes cupcakes and shit like that?" the behemoth with the mismatched hair and eyebrows bellowed in laughter. "Quick, someone get this kid an Easy Bake oven so we can have cookies too!" The mocking exclamation earned a few stifled chortles and Ichigo sensed his cheeks and ears grow warm but he was quickly vindicated as it seemed two men didn't find the outburst very funny.

"Quiet, _Diez_," was all Aizen had to say and the man's mouth snapped shut, expression immediately repentant. "Not only will insulting our guest reflect badly on our organization as a whole but I don't believe _Sexta _appreciates your sense of humor."

Ichigo let his lips twist into a smirk when _Diez _turned to look down the table where Grimmjow's cobalt eyes were surveying him with a casual iciness that subtextually dared the man to say even one more word.

"Please accept my apology on my employee's behalf, Mr. Kurosaki," Aizen said and Ichigo nodded in acceptance. "Now perhaps we may finally proceed to the proposition I have for you, but before I begin: understand you have the right to reject the proposal or recant your participation at any time without any consequences - no questions asked."

"I understand," Ichigo confirmed though he quirked an eyebrow subconsciously, taken aback by the loose terms of this proposition.

"Good, now we can cut to the chase, yes?" Aizen smiled minutely, leaning back and placing his hands on his knees under the table. "Yammy, stand and allow our guest to sit; you may leave and begin the preparations for later tonight."

The man who'd made the comment about the Easy Bake oven glowered heavily but stood from his position as the last seat on the left. He bowed to Aizen and sent a nasty glare Ichigo's way before exiting the room through the double doors.

"Please, sit," Aizen said in a manner that told Ichigo he didn't have a choice in the matter and so the orangette did so, kneeling on the cushion directly across from Szayel, who avoided eye contact though Ichigo knew better than to be offended. "I offer my sympathies in advance, Mr. Kurosaki, this will not be an easy task I ask of you and there simply isn't any time for you to ponder your answer; this proposition will require your immediate action."

Ichigo's eyes darted between Aizen's brown orbs, lukewarm to cover what the youth could make out as a calculating stare, and Grimmjow's bowed head.

"Your sympathies aren't needed," Ichigo said, settling his gaze on the brunette. "I'm sure I can handle whatever your proposition entails."

"Oh?" Aizen sounded amused but in a way that made Ichigo think the _Espada_ leader thought his confidence was all talk. "Your determination reminds me of your lover when he was but a teenager. Everyone else thought Grimmjow simply arrogant, even I believed so at first, but he proved them all wrong. I can only hope you will succeed just as he did."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed a little, catching the fondness with which Aizen spoke as he talked of the blunette. It was incredibly odd, given the man's personality and the fact Grimmjow had _had _to flee Rukongai in order to get away from him and _Espada_.

"But moving along to the present," Aizen cut through Ichigo's train of thought. "Earlier this evening when you had a bit of... _an altercation_, shall we say, with Kūgo Ginjō and two other members of his band of bumbling incompetents, you were inadvertently made a target of theirs and therefore of great use to us."

"How would that make _me _useful to you?" Ichigo said, an unpleasant sense of dread forming in his gut. He didn't comprehend how Aizen could have possibly already known about the stand off in the alleyway or why another criminal wanting his head on a platter would even interest the man.

Aizen rested his chin in the palm of one hand, one brow raising on his smooth forehead. "To answer that question I must ask you one, Mr. Kurosaki; has Grimmjow ever told you exactly what it is he or anyone does in this organization, perhaps even the mission of _Espada_?"

Somehow, Ichigo got a feeling the other male was smugly pleased to have figured out the orangette's lover had barely told him a thing until the day Grimmjow had arrived home to find Nelliel in their kitchen and only spun the tale of his past and present clandestine life to Ichigo. The youth gritted his teeth and shook his head, hoping desperately that Grimmjow had a damn good reason for staying mum on the subject for so long. They were partners in life, in everything; secrets between them should never be.

"I expected as much; the less you knew the less potential danger. Ah, despite the coarse exterior our Grimmjow can certainly be an overprotective sap, can he not?"

_Our _Grimmjow? Ichigo thought, bristling at the term. Grimmjow didn't belong to anyone but _him_, and vice versa.

"If time is such an issue, Aizen, let's get to the point," the blue-haired man finally spoke up, his words strained as if he was resisting a greater, instinctual urge.

"Of course, of course, we need only to give Mr. Kurosaki a quick briefing of the information kept from him all the years," the brunette said. "To summarize _Espada_, the thirteen of us are what the media refers to as 'vigilantes.' That is, we work outside of the law to enforce it."

Ichigo blinked, mind blank as a freshly erased chalkboard. Out of all the possibilities he'd speculated about Grimmjow and his job and those he worked with or for and the powerful crime syndicate behind it all, he had never _ever _come remotely close to imagining that his blue-eyed savior was just that.

"Pardon me?" he managed to choke out, peeking at Grimmjow who was still looking down, focused on where he was idly spinning the mixing spoon in his tea.

"Condensing our history as much as possible; it was I who started _Espada_, unsatisfied with the crime rate raising by the day due to an inept police force and the ignorant political officials who did nothing to solve the problem. You may already know it was Grimmjow I first brought into the organization but many youths in whom I saw latent, extraordinary skills have walked through the halls of my manor. In the end, ten of them became the members I assigned numbers; they were made the elite task force of _Espada_. Two others possessed abilities I considered better suited to help me in the management of my company. The thirteen of us have been a family for many years.

"Together we use any means necessary to stop the growth of illegal activity in this city, but crime is like a malignant growth, if you don't get rid of it all it will only come back worse. Unfortunately, a person of dubious intelligence and definite lack of power and resources decided to follow my example and found his own group dedicated to stopping crime. That person is Kūgo Ginjō, leader to a ragtag team of disillusioned civilians with a collectively mediocre skill set called _Xcution_. Though displeased, I assumed in due time he would realize he and _Xcution_'s efforts would be futile and only end in their own destruction. However, it appears I underestimated Ginjō's idiocy and it is a mistake I regret to this day."

Ichigo controlled himself from blurting out the question burning the tip of his tongue: what happened next, because he knew Aizen would tell him in the continuation of his narcissistic ramble.

"From my sources' personal accounts of the events of a night five and a half years ago, I can tell you with certainty, Mr. Kurosaki, that Ginjō killed an innocent man he suspected to be a serial killer, refusing to gather the necessary evidence or merely listen to his victim's testament of innocence before shooting him execution style. Needless to say, in our line of work, murdering an innocent is unforgivable, and it was apparent to all of us here at _Espada _Ginjō and his _Xcution _posed a threat to the city and its citizens. A decision was made to spare the veritably guiltless lower-ranking members, but we were forced to send our best assassin to eliminate the danger to society that is Kūgo Ginjō. I'm sure I don't have to tell you, Mr. Kurosaki, just who that is."

Eyes flickering over to Grimmjow, Ichigo felt his heart drop. What had gone wrong with the mission? Had anything happened to Grimmjow he still didn't know about?

"Make no mistake, our _Sexta _is unequivocally the most talented predator of us all and he came out of the mission unscathed. However, as you are already aware, he keeps many things secret and not a single soul know except he and Ginjō himself what exactly happened that night, only that come morning it was not Ginjō who lay dead but his lover, Shūkurō Tsukishima, and _Sexta _was nowhere to be found."

Flashes of memories from two different nights flitted through Ichigo's mind.

_Ya want ta ask me... if I've ever killed anyone... _

_Five and a half years is a long time..._

_Just because you couldn't protect your beloved lover doesn't mean the rest of us can't either. How long did he last in this city, anyway? Two months? Three?..._

_I had taken every measure to make certain he was safe, Sexta, and he still died..._

_An eye for an eye..._

_I don't care. And I don't care if that makes me a horrible person, for not caring. I really don't...the only thing I care about is you, and you're the best person I've ever known. You've done so much for me that it doesn't matter, and it never will..._

Ichigo bit his lower lip to keep his gasp from slipping out, his teeth piercing flesh and drawing a diminutive drop of blood. How Grimmjow continued to evade the orangette's emotional gaze boring into the male's skull from across the table was a mystery to Ichigo and yet it felt like a cruel dagger stabbed into his belly. He wanted, _needed_, to connect in some way, any way, with the man he loved, but Grimmjow was shutting him out as was typical in times of high tension wholly concerning the blue-haired, angel-faced man. With great reluctance and heavy heart, Ichigo turned to Aizen once again.

"And what does this have to do with the proposition you have for me?" he asked quietly.

"It has everything to do with it, Mr. Kurosaki," Aizen answered. "You see, a man can overcome his worst shortcomings when provoked to his breaking point. Since his lover died, Ginjō's managed to sharpen his dull senses and survive in the city like a cockroach whose evolution caused it to sprout a pair of wings. Presently the man's even more of a pest than any insect and I and the rest of _Espada _wish to... exterminate him."

"And you want my help," Ichigo stated instead of asking although he had not a clue of how he could assist a company of highly skilled (moral) criminals. Aizen's smile grew just that tiniest bit wider.

"We would be much obliged, Mr. Kurosaki," Aizen said. "Your priceless value as the ultimate revenge to Ginjō will allow Espada to formulate the perfect plan to rid Rukongai of a murderer of innocents, not to mention one fanatically intent on ending your life and then your lover's. Acting the part of bait will put you in unavoidable danger but the odds of our strategy failing or any other mishap is slim to none. So, Ichigo Kurosaki, are you in... or out?"

"Out." Grimmjow's single word sliced through the air thick with dramatic tension and the negative reply was backed by a resolute finality. No one in their sane mind would argue.

"Now, Grimmjow, Mr. Kurosaki is an adult fully capable of making his own decisions," Aizen rebutted, not taking his eyes away from Ichigo's face, which the orangette was sure displayed the full extent of his distress. There wasn't a question of whether or not Ichigo wanted to stop the man holding a violently stubborn grudge on his only loved one in the world but he wasn't sure if a plan involving him would actually work. The closest he'd ever come to an action-packed mission to entrap a living, breathing killer was all the times he'd been knocked to the ground and beaten mercilessly by almost every male in his hometown of Hanging Dog.

"Yeah, well not this one," Grimmjow snarled. "I don't know what the hell yer playin' at Aizen; you never directly involve a civilian in any of_ Espada's_ inner workings an' ya know damn well ya could get tha' bastard with a snap of yer fingers. This isn't goin' ta - "

"I'm in."

All eyes turned to Ichigo, some mildly shocked while others were simply apathetic to the whole situation. Clearing his throat, the orangette reiterated for clarity.

"I want to help _Espada_ stop Ginjō. I'm in."

* * *

><p>Only a few minutes later, Ichigo could admit he had not a clue what accepting Aizen's proposition would mean.<p>

After his answer in the positive, Aizen thanked him in the politest and most impassive manner before directing _Octava_, who turned out to be Szayel to Ichigo's small relief, _Cuatro_, _Primera _- brown, shaggy hair and blue eyes guy - Gin, and the blonde _Tercera_ to lead their guest to the 'library.' And when Ichigo stood at the doorway and waited for a certain blunette to accompany them as well, he was simultaneously stunned, hurt, and pissed off as Grimmjow played the statue, still and silent. Ichigo left the tea room without his boyfriend, whom he assumed was staying back to sip tea with Aizen as they reminisced over old times while Ichigo internally trembled as the distance between them grew, unnerved at what he may have to do to ensure he and, most importantly, Grimmjow's safetly.

The library, as he expected, was not a room filled with shelves and books or even an elderly librarian pushing a cart and shushing everyone she crossed. Instead, the space resembled a kind of high security, military grade control room from any action movie ever made. On the far side there was a supercomputer hard drive and plush, rolling chairs rimming the total length of a massive desk, which held an insanely complex control panel complete with thousands of various switches and buttons, behind it an entire wall covered in numerous screens all showing different images (one funnily enough playing the latest episode of a popular reality show whose whole borderline alcoholic, promiscuous cast sported orange tans and overly gelled hair.) Along the other three walls were black, armoured lockers secured with padlocks controlled by keypads.

Directly upon entering the room, _Cuatro _beelined for the control panel, taking a seat and immediately starting to type on the keyboard almost too fast to be humanly possible. _Tercera _and _Primera _wasted no time heading for a locker on the left hand side, the female _Espada_ punching in the password on the keypad so the padlock opened with a _click_. The locker swung open to reveal an array of varied handguns mounted on the interior walls with tiny hooks, startling Ichigo a little since he'd figured before the other parts of the plan not concerning him included the weapons.

"I think, Ichigo, you are the only person I've ever known who could enter the lions' den and persuade them not to eat you alive."

The orange-haired youth turned his head to the side, seeing Szayel staring down at him over his white spectacles. The pink-haired male was dressed in his usual ivory suit, not a visible difference to be found, and yet interacting with his friend in their current locale was disconcerting, almost unreal - like a dream. His minor disorientation must have shown on his face because Szayel sighed and gripped him gently by the forearm, pulling the other over to the control panel. Forcibly sitting Ichigo down in one of the chairs, the medical professional reached into his left breast pocket and withdrew a silver flask, popping it open and proffering it to the out of sorts boy.

"Here, drink some. It'll help," Szayel encouraged and Ichigo shrugged, thinking a fleeting 'what the hell' and snatched the flask. He brought it to his lips and tipped his head back, gulping a good amount of liquid that burned his mouth and throat like he was chugging fire and gasoline. Choking a little and tears springing to his eyes, Ichigo ripped the flask away from his open mouth and looked up at Szayel.

"What the... _fuck _is in there?" he sputtered, handing the flask back to the other.

"Everclear; a brand they sell in liquor stores claiming the bottle contains a hundred percent ethyl alcohol. In all actuality, my tests concluded that false. It's only ninety to ninety-one percent pure alcohol."

"Oh, is that all?" Ichigo said sarcastically, rubbing his now sore throat.

"Sarcasm isn't really the appropriate tone to take with someone trying to help you, Ichigo," Szayel said, sighing and sitting in the rolling chair beside the orangette. "If you plan on making it to see the sunrise, you need to relax a little, especially when you take into consideration what Aizen has planned for you."

"And what would that be?" Ichigo questioned warily, leaning back in his seat as the alcohol already began to take effect.

"Not supposed to say: Ulqui's the one designated to give you your instructions."

"Ulqui?"

"_Cuatro_," Szayel clarified, resting an arm on the desk and nodding to where the alabaster-skinned man was hunched over his keyboard, the screens changing to form one colossal image of what appeared to be three-dimensional blueprints. "Here in the headquarters only Aizen and Tosen address up by our aliases, though they do loosen up a bit and call us by our first names if we're at Aizen's manor."

Ichigo hummed in understanding, nodding his head absentmindedly as he remembered Grimmjow telling him of how Aizen had picked the homeless boy off the streets and taken him to the finest one of the limited mansions located within the city limits.

"Over by the armory the one with the gorgeous hair who always looks like he'll fall asleep any second is Coyote Starrk and the blonde woman is Tier Halibel, just call them by their last name for now," Szayel informed the other who could be considered his patient, his stubborn, foolish patient. "They're going to fit you with a wire and probably one of those small, one shot guns. Ugh, I forget what they're called but Halibel's usually got one or two hidden in her cleavage."

The single female Espada must have super hearing since the second Szayel finished his sentence, she whipped her head around her shoulder, blonde braids flying, and glared daggers at her co-worker. Szayel merely chuckled lightly at her evident aggravation and faced Ichigo once again.

"We'll be waiting for the others to ready everything for at least a little while so why don't you tell me how you and Grimmy managed to run into Ginjō, hm?"

Szayel was the only one looking directly at him but Ichigo could sense the others in the room paying him close attention, which didn't really help his nerves.

"We just went to the movies and then we left in the middle of the one we went to see," Ichigo said, purposefully skipping over the part where he'd wantonly straddled Grimmjow in the theater and they'd made out until that teenaged kid had called them out. "We were walking home when all of a sudden that man, Ginjō, and two others came at us out of nowhere."

"Hmm... " Szayel tapped a finger to his chin, mustard orbs gleaming in suspicion. "Why did you two leave the theater in the middle of the film?"

"I - ... i-it wasn't any good," Ichigo hastened to explain, hoping every one watching him was color blind so they wouldn't notice the blush creeping over his facial features. "So we decided to leave and go home."

"You, Ichigo Kurosaki," Szayel said coquettishly, shaking his finger at the youth playfully. "Are a l-i-a-r. Everyone knows there's only one particular, _very _good reason couples leave _anything _early." The pink-haired doctor smirked for a few seconds, bathing in his lie detector skills, before his eyes enlarged ten times their original size and he sat straight up in his chair. "_Don't _tell me you and Grimmjow couldn't wait to get home and Ginjō _interrupted _you both getting it on in _public_!"

"No, it didn't happen like that!" Ichigo protested adamantly, face, ears, and neck all deepening in color to a vivid scarlet as what was supposed to be a _private _sexual escapade with his boyfriend of over five years. "We... we were f-fooling around but Grimm sensed something was off and we stopped and _then _that prick showed up."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," Szayel said dismissively, waving an elegant hand. "I'm going to stick with the version where Grimmy was taking you rough and hard up against the alley wall and finally Ginjō decided to cease creepily watching peeping tom-style and he interrupted your lovemaking, now more incensed than ever since he hasn't gotten any in decades, no_ centuries_, and then Grimmy defended you from the irate madman and his two hulking henchmen, risking his life though still sweaty and in the buff but not caring because all he can think of is protecting his beloved Ichigo. Oh yes, that's _much _more exciting."

Following Szayel's spin on the night's actual events Ichigo was sure the expression on his face matched the three others' in the library. Someone, a male, coughed to break the silence and everyone continued going about their business.

"If you repeat any of what you just said, _ever_, I'll... I'll put gum in your hair," Ichigo said in a deadly serious tone, able to focus for that brief space of time on something so juvenile due to his minor alcohol buzz. "I'll stick it up at the top of your head so when you go to have it cut out they'll have to give you a crew cut."

"Okay, now _that _was uncalled for... but, fine, I promise I'll never again speak of any one of Ichigo and Grimmjow's kinky sex adventures," Szayel said, pouting a little and spoke again so Ichigo didn't have the opportunity to threaten him some more. "Ah, ah, ah, we need to return to more serious things, like you telling me what the hell was going through that pretty, little orange noggin of yours when you told Aizen you'd play bait in this sting to eradicate Ginjō?"

The mood, momentarily lightened, plunged back into shadowy darkness. Ichigo shifted in his seat, crossing his arms so they lay over his stomach and his gaze drifted down to his Converse sneakers.

"I know it sounds like a greeting card or something fake like that, but for over five years Grimmjow's been my savior, he saved me when no else ever had. It's time for me to return the favor. This guy Ginjō wants to hurt him so I'm going to whatever it takes to get rid of him."

Ichigo's sight of his sneakers and the marble floor blurred and faded away, a vision of the most beautiful man in existence replacing it, aquamarine eyes shimmering happily, an excited, joyful grin forming around those blindingly white teeth. It was how he wished he could see Grimmjow everyday, free and happy, and Ichigo knew one day in the future that time would come so any threat to its realization he would show no mercy.

"Yes, I know why you said yes but Ichigo, can't you see - ... " Szayel trailed off and Ichigo's eyes traveled up to take in the man's pinched expression, a slender hand running through those cotton candy strands of hair. "Let's consider some things, shall we?"

"Like what?"

"Well, first of all, think about how Grimmjow left the _Espada _without any notice, disappearing without a trace after Ginjō's botched assassination when Aizen made it clear to all of us once you become a full-fledged, numbered member you wouldn't ever be allowed to leave _Espada_, you would be a liability, a risk, and a threat to the organization."

"You mean... the only way to leave _Espada_ is death," Ichigo surmised, eyes widening as he thought of his mentor and friend, Nelliel. Although they referred to the woman as the former _Tercera _she must have left sometime before her full initiation, or Ichigo wouldn't currently be enrolled in her school.

"It is the oath all members swore, the very first one to do so Grimmjow, _Sexta_, and he left," Szayel said and Ichigo knew the _Octava_ was trying to slow walk him to an epiphany but wished the man would make his point already. "And yet, despite the consequence of his departure being a signed death warrant should a member with the skill to best the former _Sexta _catch up to him, he had the nerve to contact Aizen and ask for his job back and Aizen _gave it to him_."

While Ichigo had never known of the 'member for life' rule his lover consciously broke, back in Hanging Dog he had actually been _surprised _that it took as long as six months for Grimmjow's former employer to invite him back.

"Maybe Aizen gave him a second chance?" he tried the only reason he could think up as to why. "He_ did _say Grimm was the best."

"All right, this is still not all coming together for you... " Szayel murmured to himself. A second passed and then he jerked forward, grinning eagerly. "Ah! Ichigo, did you notice the decor in the hall and the tea room?"

"Yeah, everything was white," the orangette answered simply, completely lost as to why this was important.

"And...?"

"And what?"

"Were there any other colors besides white?" Szayel pressed, now on sitting on the edge of his chair.

"No, not really... oh, the walls in the hallway are painted light blue!" Ichigo exclaimed, finally clearly picturing both locations his friend mentioned. "And the marble has blue in it too and in the tea room there was a... blue orchid..."

"It may help to know these headquarters were built, furnished, and decorated by Aizen right after _Espada_'s first numbered member was sworn in."

Ichigo's face fell into a scowl as he thought hard about what Szayel said, the clues he was supposed to put together. Well, Szayel had already told him Grimmjow was the first one to take the Espada oath, and so instantly after that the headquarters had been built by the leader of the company, Aizen, the victim of a severe purity complex that led to a fondness for the color white.

But not everything was white, some of the decor was... _blue_.

Aizen undoubtedly was the one who'd originally formulated the membership oath all thirteen of the _Espada _were bound to the organization by, no exceptions. Save for when it came to their _Sexta _who broke their number one rule and only needed to ask before he was welcomed back with open arms without so much as a slap on the wrist.

No, not _their Sexta_.

_My dear Sexta..._

It was so damn obvious! Ichigo knew he'd picked up a strange vibe from the syndicate founder, different from the expected, and it just all made such perfect sense now.

"Aizen's in love with Grimmjow."

* * *

><p>Ichigo thinks it was twenty minutes into his comatose state of shock later a lethargic, deep voice called for him to join its owner, Starrk, and Halibel by the open locker chock full of moderately-sized handguns. Mentally shaking himself to clear his mind, Ichigo slowly approached the two slightly intimidating weapons experts, unthinkingly dragging his feet along the way.<p>

"Look alive, kid," Starrk told him, holding out one of the smaller handguns. "There's a lot to go over before you go out into the thick of things."

Well, that was certainly _motivational_. Ichigo was already exhausted and it appeared this night would never end. Oh, and he definitely didn't want to hold that gun Starrk was trying to push into his hand.

"I don't think-... I mean, I've never used one of these before," the orange-haired male protested, pulling his hand away until it was snagged in Halibel's surprisingly firm grip.

"Stop worrying so much; it's not hard," she said to him, voice femininely husky. Ichigo wondered if she had difficulty finding a boyfriend if she was into men, considering she made him feel utterly emasculated as she pried open his hand and closed it around the gun by force, but a quick glance at those unreal curves and bust (a part of the female anatomy that never failed to make Ichigo incredibly uncomfortable) instantly squashed those thoughts.

Once he was fully holding the handgun on his own, the orangette was grateful no one laughed at how he gingerly held the weapon as far from his body as he could. He wasn't sure of the reason but Ichigo didn't remember a time when guns didn't make his stomach churn, even ones like this that were smaller than his palm.

"You can relax, kid. I put the safety on so it's not gonna go off anytime soon," Starrk reassured him, snagging one of the same models off the locker's wall.

"My name's Ichigo, not 'kid,'" Ichigo said with a hint of bitterness stemming from the two _Espada_ acting as if a gun phobia was simply acting paranoid. Then he wondered if he should press his luck with members of an organization highly skilled at killing people. Fortunately, Starrk just chuckled and shook his head.

"Well then, _Ichigo_, let's head down to the shooting range so you can learn how to use that thing, yeah?" the _Primera _said, turning to address where _Cuatro _and Szayel were seated by the control panel. "We'll get him a wire down there while we're at it. There's gonna be 'bout an hour or so left when we get back so be ready."

_Be ready for what? _Ichigo thought, a little concerned, as he was escorted out of the library and down the hallway.

* * *

><p>Upon Ichigo's arrival at the library a thin wire had been fitted around his torso, connecting the speaker secured on the back of his collar and the main device, a circular metal object similar to a checkers game piece clipped on the inside of his belt. Not only this but he was near on the verge of kneeling on the floor and begging Starrk and Halibel to let him use what he knew now to be named a .357 Magnum, which they'd given to him in the shooting range to practice with (both for the fun of it and in the unlikely case the plan went wrong and he had to use his single shot pistol and then came upon a bigger handgun someone dropped or, heaven forbid, could no longer use due to injury or their... recent passing.)<p>

"Sorry kid, one round with a .357 isn't remotely close to being familiar enough with it to carry one," Starrk told Ichigo for the seventy-fifth time, not sounding sorry at all and apparently all of a sudden forgetting the orangette's name.

"Oh, so you guys can use me in a plot that could go wrong at any time and lead to my untimely demise but giving me a real gun so I could have a fighting chance isn't allowed because it isn't _safe_?" Ichigo snapped, walking back into the library behind Halibel and Starrk.

"You're the one who agreed to it, not me," Starrk sighed, yawning behind his hand. "Besides, my guns, my rules."

"Pardon?" Halibel said from behind the fabric of her extended turtleneck.

"Er, I mean _our _guns, _our _rules, of course," Starrk said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck and swiftly escaping to one of the desk chairs sure to be the location of his next nap. Ichigo, however, had barely paid attention to either of the two weapons experts as soon as he'd entered the room which now occupied not four but eleven Espada.

The missing two men's noticeable absence twisted the knife already plunged into Ichigo's stomach. Ever since his revelation earlier that Aizen was in love with Grimmjow, strains of fleeting thoughts passed through his mind every few seconds, suspicions of infidelity and Grimmjow even reciprocating Aizen's feelings, sensations of despair, jealousy, betrayal, and possession among them. The simple idea of Aizen actually caring, adoring, loving someone was almost impossible to wrap his mind around until Ichigo remembered his long-time lover, his supernatural exterior beauty trumped only by that of the interior, and he couldn't believe how one _couldn't _love Grimmjow.

"Mr. Kurosaki, if you would please come and stand beside me; I have much of which to inform you," _Cuatro_'s nihilistic words crossed the room to the young man in the doorway and when Ichigo obeyed he felt more ill at ease than ever before, every person in the room lining themselves along the walls on either side of him.

Except for _Cuatro_, of course, who didn't spare a simple glance in Ichigo's direction as the latter came to stand on the left side of where he was hunched over in his chair. With a single hit of a key, a green grid appeared on the blank screen, lines formulating into the shape of typical street in Rukongai. Another few keys were typed and the image grew larger, zooming in on a particular apartment building, the black and green blinking once before the picture colorized. Ichigo realized he was viewing live footage of the four story complex, evidently located in one of the city's seedier areas. Cars and a few pedestrians passed through the film, the time nearly one in the morning, a few hours until the city quieted as much as possible before the sun rose.

Zooming in closer, the screen focused on a sole window on the third story of the building though Ichigo saw it as futile, a curtain hiding all that happening inside the apartment. That was, until the fabric moved and figure appeared in the window, a jolt of recognition coursing Ichigo's whole body when he spotted plain as day the figure's face, a sight he would never forget as long as he lived.

Kūgo Ginjō was talking on a cell phone, holding the mobile device to his ear with one hand and lifting the curtain away from the window with the other. His beady, dark eyes scanned the street several times, his mouth flapping about while he shouted at whoever was on the other line, and after approximately thirty seconds he backed away from the window, curtain falling into place once more.

"Needless to say, you have all witnessed pure idiocy at its finest," _Cuatro _said, sighing softly. "It required all of eleven minutes to track Kūgo Ginjō down to this apartment he's not only rented for the full past month but used as the temporary base of operations for _Xcution_, a clique I've identified totaling five other participants besides Ginjō himself."

"Please tell me we're not wasting our time on a joke like this guy," a male Ichigo guessed to be _Noveno _said in distaste.

"Remember what Aizen said, Aero," Szayel said and Ichigo looked over his shoulder to his friend who was speaking. "Ginjō has inexplicable, short-lived bouts of intelligence that makes him a threat - a low level on, but a threat nonetheless. Aside from that, it is already our responsibility to bring this man to justice; he killed an innocent."

It seemed all the_ Espada _concurred with their _Octava_ because the replies were merely nods and hums or murmurs of collective agreement. Ichigo was again reminded of the fact these people did not participate in exceedingly illegal activities for money or the thrill of it; they wanted to take on the responsibilities their political officials and police force wouldn't and that was keep their home from turning into an anarchic, dangerous free for all and his Grimmjow was one of them. Pride swelled up in Ichigo's chest but _Cuatro_'s emotionless voice deflated it rapidly.

"Time will not be an issue with this particular case," he said to everyone in the room. "Aizen's plan is foolproof and now that we have our bait by sunrise Kūgo Ginjō will no longer endanger the city with his bumbling attempts to emulate what we do properly."

"I know Aizen's a genius and blah blah blah, but with everything depending on Grimm's bitch I doubt the plan's 'foolproof,'" _Quinto _said almost resentfully from his place in the far corner. Ichigo glared at the one-eyed man, who stuck his long, tattooed tongue out in a juvenile fashion.

"If everyone could restrain themselves and allow me to explain what will happen in the next few hours, you would know by now, Nnoitra," _Cuatro _said and evidently satisfied when no one uttered a peep continued. "The plan is incredible simple. To summarize Mr. Kurosaki will act as bait in order to lure Ginjō out onto the street where either Nnoitra, Halibel, or Starrk will have a clear shot and take the pest out of his misery. Given the limited number of needed participants, all others may exit the library at this time."

Ichigo chewed on his bottom lip, watching the six _Espada _leave the four necessary to the plan, a few grumbling in displeasure at not being included especially the elderly, mustachioed man. Szayel winked at him on his way out and Ichigo gave a weak smile in return. He really hoped he would get to see his doctor/friend again.

"Now us five shall go over the finite details so if everyone would please be seated," _Cuatro _instructed. Ichigo lowered himself into the chair next to the pale technical genius, the other three _Espada _taking seats on the man's opposite side. "Starrk, Halibel, Nnoitra, given this assignment is similar to many you've completed previously I'll assume all I only need provide your respective coordinates?"

Three sounds of affirmation and the dark-haired male began spouting combined sets of numbers and letters at warp speed, leaving Ichigo lost and, unfortunately, free to think of other things - namely why he hadn't seen hide nor hair of his handsome lover.

He could admit to wanting Grimmjow with him almost every single time they were apart for however long and downright needing the blunette by his side during troubled times. But never had Ichigo _starved _for Grimmjow as he did right then and there and, in a cruel twist of fate, his beloved had left him alone, probably intentionally.

Goddammit, did it _hurt_.

"Mr. Kurosaki, are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

Ichigo started, daze created from misery and loneliness and fear fading far enough away to clear his mind and focus on _Cuatro_'s face, an impassive mask surely hiding his irritation with the orange-haired male.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I figured as much," the other said, facing the screen again. "I shall start over from the beginning, then, and this time around do your best to pay attention considering the unfortunate circumstances that you are the pivotal point in the plot."

"What do you mean, 'unfortunate?'" Ichigo demanded snappishly but never received an explanation as the other male pointedly ignored him.

"Whether or not we finally stomp out the _Xcution_ vermin tonight entirely depends on you, Mr. Kurosaki. Since your altercation with Ginjō and two of his followers earlier this evening you have known, I hope, that he intends to use you to enact revenge on the _Sexta_ and this makes you the ideal enticement for Ginjō to leave the safety of his apartment and walk onto the sidewalk or street to present a target for our three snipers strategically positioned on the rooftops of different buildings."

"All right, so all I have to do is walk by his complex and he'll come running out to grab me?" Ichigo wanted the clarification because honestly it sounded _too_ easy.

"Even Kūgo Ginjō is not moronic enough to believe you by happenstance wondered onto the one city block in the whole of Rukongai he lived on. In order to fool the man you will need to act as if you sought him out purposefully," _Cuatro _stated, confirming Ichigo's suspicions and sending the youth's frazzled nerves soaring to new heights at the same time.

"And why would I do that, exactly?" Ichigo questioned, pitch wavering.

"That particular detail you have complete control over. Any reasons you want to give for your visit or lines you sense if fed to Ginjō will most easily believe are fair game; your only objective is to delude him into thinking you are there alone and convince him to exit the building."

"But... I don't even know what to say. Why would he ever think I went there to talk to him or something?" Ichigo contended, in complete disagreement with the other's lackadaisical attitude toward the difficulty of the situation.

"Hmm..." _Cuatro_ appeared to think for a moment until he answered with exactly what Ichigo didn't want to hear. "Could you not pretend to find him attractive and you sought him out in order to propose the two of you engage in carnal activities together?"

"What the hell! Please tell me you're fucking joking or I swear I'll-"

"Mr. Kurosaki, I do not understand why you are reacting so vehemently to my suggestion when you asked for my help. Taking into consideration you and the _Sexta _currently share a sexual relationship, you cannot be offended by my assumption you are attracted to the male gender. That is the truth, correct?"

Ichigo wasn't able to think of any kind of response that, instead staring slack-jawed at the ivory-skinned man who simply blinked back at him.

"I suppose your silence reveals the answer to that question is in the affirmative," Cuatro said. "Nevertheless, there is no time to spare on queries about your sexuality, Mr. Kurosaki. One more vital piece of information of which you should be aware are your hidden wire only record sound to play back here at headquarters, using a device made for two-way conversation is too much of a risk considering your probable proximity to the target. The wire is so we can hear your interaction with Kūgo Ginjō and in the minute possibility there is a mishap or any danger to you or our three snipers; should the latter happen avoid, hide, or if possible flee from any threat to your safety. Do not use the single shot pistol provided unless the situation escalates to mortal peril. Finally, you will depart headquarters exactly when the clock strikes two in one of our vehicles and driven by a chauffeur in our employment to the drop-off site one street over from Kūgo Ginjō's residence. Now, do I have to repeat anything a third time for you, Mr. Kurosaki?"

"No, thank you. I managed to absorb everything into my tiny brain this time," Ichigo said dryly, a sarcastic closed-lip smile appearing on his face. He knew it was the nerves making him more irritable than usual and the one who always calmed them had abandoned him in this weird building full of weird people and... Ichigo cut his thoughts short so they wouldn't escalate and worsen his mental state as a result. "Can I go now? Before I do... this, I need to be alone for a little while."

"Very well, the best place for solace would be the garage and you may as well wait in the car until it's time for you to depart," _Cuatro _said, standing from his chair and reaching into his suit jackets' inner pocket to withdraw a set of keys he deposited into the palm Ichigo proffered hesitantly. "The large silver one is compatible with the elevator, put that key into the ignition then enter 03312 using the keypad on the panel and _then _turn the key. Do be careful while utilizing these keys, they are my personal set and I will be wanting them returned to me immediately upon your return."

"Sure, thanks," Ichigo murmured half-heartedly, rising from his chair as well. It wasn't until he reached the doorway he realized something, looking back over his shoulder at the again seated _Cuatro Espada_. The orangette couldn't exactly confess to liking the odd, condescending computer genius but the fact that the man lent him the set of keys, demanding their return when Ichigo got back meant the apathetic _Cuatro _believed, apparently a great deal, that he _would_ come back. He had faith Ichigo would succeed and arrive back at the _Espada_ headquarters to give back the borrowed keys.

A minute smile graced the youth's lips the entirety of the elevator's decent from the penthouse floor to the garage.

* * *

><p>As promised, the garage Ichigo had last seen what felt like years ago, but actually two to three prior, was silent as a morgue - the analogy furthered by the rows of parked, all black towncars that reminded Ichigo of rows of tombstones. Shivering involuntarily since morbid thoughts were the last thing the orangette wanted in his head when the time to leave and put himself in mortal peril was less than an hour away.<p>

_Tick, tock. _

There were four towncars parked in a line right in front of the garage door and Ichigo surmised they were the vehicles intended for him, Halibel, Starrk, and that asshole with the eye patch. He strode toward the one last in the line, guessing and hoping the town cars weren't assigned to one specific person and the doors were unlocked since he really didn't feel like sorting through his loaned key ring to find the single, correct one. He grasped the passenger's side door handle and pulled, relieved when there was an audible _click_, and opened the door all the way.

He slid into the leather passenger seat, shutting the door closed after him, and when he shifted his body to face forward, he caught the silhouette of another person in the corner of his eye. Nerves strung like a guitar string tightened almost to the point of snapping in two, Ichigo shouted in alarm, heart stopping and body jerking away from the driver's side, bumping the back of his head against the window.

"Christ, Ichi, calm down! It's just me," came the deep, automatically soothing voice of the other person inside the car and the effect it alone had on Ichigo's whole being was so instant it was bizarre but so incredible and relaxing it was amazing. The orangette was barely conscious of his body moving until he found himself laying across the car's console with his arms wrapped around a solid, unnaturally warm, and achingly familiar torso and his face buried in soft flannel fabric.

"Grimmjow," he breathed out, enjoying the sensation of corded arms returning the embrace; a moment of zen in what so far been a night of pure chaos. It ended the next second. "Where in the _fuck_ have you _been_!" Ichigo demanded, reluctantly letting go of his lover to rear backwards and drop into the passenger side seat. Only over five years of practice and training enabled the youth to maintain a vicious scowl directed at Grimmjow who just loved to make that near impossible by looking so perfect it was heartbreaking.

However, what Ichigo expected, a sincere apology followed by some heavy petting, was not _at all _what he got.

"Oh well gee, I dunno, maybe trying ta stop my boss from makin' my boyfriend try and go make small talk with the bastard who wants to _kill _him! Where the hell did you_ think _I was?" Grimmjow roared back, pounding his fist on the steering wheel hard enough the car honk went off annoyingly loud.

"What is _wrong _with you, Grimm? You're getting mad at _me _when _you're _the one who left me to handle all that insane planning bullshit by my - fucking - self! That's what partners are supposed to do for each other, you know, support one another when things are messed up. But no, I can't expect you to be there for _me _when you're too busy screwing around with 'your boss' in the man's tea room!" Ichigo was panting heavily when he finally stopped shouting and he already regretted blurting out his insecurities when deep down he _knew _Grimmjow would never betray him like that.

"Was tha' supposed ta be a joke, Ichigo? 'Cause it better fuckin' be," Grimmjow said, the volume of his voice lowered but the intensity reaching full strength. "Ya really think so little of me, tha' I would _ever _cheat on ya with anyone let alone _Aizen_, the man who when I was a kid was tha closest thing I had ta any kind of father figure? Well, _baby_, is tha' what ya really think 'bout me?"

Ichigo slumped in his seat, avoiding eye contact with his lover and playing idly with a stray string of denim on his jeans.

"You know that's not true," he whispered. "Just like I know what I said isn't, but... I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little on edge right now."

"Argh, Ichi... goddammit."

Ichigo was a little taken aback when Grimmjow tackled him from the side, encasing his waist and shoulders within the confines of flannel-clad, strong arms and pressing their upper bodies flush against each other above the console. However, obviously Ichigo couldn't complain, not when he could feel the addicting heat from Grimmjow's body sinking into his bones, his head rested on the blunette's shoulder and his lips just inches away from the flesh of that tawny, muscled neck he loved so much.

"Yer goin' ta be the death of me one day, I swear," Grimmjow said into the orange tufts of hair atop Ichigo's head. "Pretty sure ya gave me a damn heart attack when you told Aizen you were in. Asshole wouldn' call the whole thing off, no matter wha' I said; kept sayin' if you were anythin' like he thought everythin' would be all righ'."

"And he's right, Grimm," Ichigo said resolutely from he was tucked under that angular jaw. "I worry myself sick whenever you're not home with me, especially when you stay out the whole night but you always _come back_ and even though I get scared you might not, somehow I always _know_ you will. Does that make sense?"

Grimmjow hummed noncommittally, his hold on Ichigo increasing to the point where the orangette couldn't breath before he let go, hands moving up to tilt Ichigo's face up towards his. Those whirlpools of rampaging stormy blues hypnotized the younger man for a moment, sucking him in to drown helplessly in those depths and then spitting him back out, gasping for breath.

"I know yer capable of pullin' this off, Ichi, but yer so much stronger than me. I don' know if I can jus' wait around, knowin' yer with _him_, thinkin' of all tha things tha' could go wrong, all the ways ya could get hurt. If somethin' took ya away from me, Ichigo, I don' know wha' I would do, who tha hell I'd _be _if you weren't around any more. I wasn' anyone 'fore I met you, jus' something who got off on killin' people I though' deserved death fer what they'd done even when I was doin' tha _same _damn _thing_. Ichi, you changed... _everything_. I'm beggin' ya, _please don't do this_."

Blinking, Ichigo noticed his eyes were damp, a telltale lump in his throat. He was grateful his face was hidden from Grimmjow's powerful gaze, even though he realized if he spoke his emotional state could be heard his choked, clogged voice. But during times like this one it was different. This time was dense with that mystical aura of that rare, otherworldly connection that possesses us like spirits and we think our minds, hearts, our very souls will burst from an overdose of that devastatingly beatific element we will never be able to really understand or explain but otherwise known as love.

"Grimmjow, for the first time since the day I met you I'm going to tell you something I never have before," Ichigo said, swallowing hard as he gathered all his inner strength, knowing this was the right thing to do. "No."

"No?" Grimmjow repeated hoarsely.

"No," Ichigo said once more. "I'm sorry, Grimm, I'm _so sorry_. I never thought the day would come when I said that to you but this is that day. I _need _to do this, and no, not 'for me' like everyone says. I'm doing it _all_ for you. For five years and then some you've done so damn much for my benefit I sometimes wonder if you're totally, padded cell, straight jacket _insane_. This is going to sound so overly dramatic, I know if anyone else said it I'd be sick after hearing it, but here it is. You saved me, Grimmjow. Not just from those bashers when we first met but every day since. You reached down to pull me out of Hell and up into Heaven to finally know what being really fucking happy was like. I can't comprehend why you don't see it that way too but, anyway, my point is I'm going to finally do something for you. Nothing you say is going to change my mind or stop me from doing it. It's happening and _that's final_, got it?"

When Grimmjow said nothing for several long, drawn out moments, simply stared down at the orangette with incredible intensity, Ichigo began to worry and he bit his lip in his usual nervous tendency. He was on the verge of pleading his lover to say anything, a single word would suffice, and yet he never had the chance to do so because at last a question passed through Grimmjow's parted lips like an exhaled breath.

"Ya swear on yer life, on my life, you'll come back ta me?"

"I swear on everything in the whole damn world," Ichigo said, a shaky smile following his oath. "It's all going to be perfect, you'll see."

Grimmjow's kiss stole the rest of the breath in his lungs, a faintly familiar sense of desperation behind it that before now had only ever come from Ichigo's side of a fervent, parting liplock shared in their doorway when the blue-haired man left for his now not so secret job. Ichigo's toes curled inside his shoes and he tangled the fingers of one into mussed locks of sky blue hair. The kiss' length was fast approaching the marker when the two would usually progress further into their sensual dance perfected long ago but when less than a second remained the older male pulled away. Ichigo whined in disappointment, leaning forward to continue the euphoric act only to be stopped by Grimmjow's hand grasping his chin and holding his head in place. The orange-haired youth scowled, confused why his infamously insatiable boyfriend was acting so oddly.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but we got 'bout twenty minutes 'fore it's time ta go and I wanna tell ya something, something important," Grimmjow said and sensing the man's genuine urgency, Ichigo nodded, hazy state fading from his consciousness. Grimmjow withdrew his hands from the other's body and feeling a little cold without the touch, Ichigo shrank back into his seat.

"What is it, Grimm?" he questioned gently, noting how his lover positioned his body toward the front of the car, hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Something tha's been eatin' away at me fer a while now, something just one other living person knows, and something I've wanted ta talk to ya 'bout so many times but never had the balls to man up an' do it 'cause I was..."

"Cause you were what?" Ichigo timidly pressed, watching Grimmjow's jaw clench and his knuckles pale as he clutched the steering wheel harder.

"Afraid. Scared. Absolutely fucking _terrified_. 's not exactly somethin' people react well after hearing it an' if you didn' like wha' it was ya heard and rethought bein' with me and left, it would'a been just wha' I deserved."

"Grimm, you've already heard me tell you countless times I don't care what you've done in your past - "

"Yeah, you _say _you don't give a shit if I ever killed anyone but I never confirmed it and now ya think the only people I ever shot or knifed or beat so bad they ended up in a hospital bed were criminals, _murderers_, and tha's a fucking _lie _'cause I did take tha life of someone innocent, five an' a half years ago."

Ichigo licked his suddenly dry lips, wanting badly to put his arms around Grimmjow's neck and whisper reassurances that he honestly was a terribly selfish person and didn't care at all about any of the 'bad' things his boyfriend ever did but he knew Grimmjow would totally shut down if he did that so he settled for words to comfort the other.

Plus, he already knew of whom the man spoke; all the given hints that night made it so obvious it may as well have been printed on black and white. _Grimmjow Jaegerjaques' sole innocent victim had been Shūkurō Tsukishima. _

"Grimm, you've kept this in for too long," Ichigo said. "You know nothing's going to change between us, just like it wouldn't if _I_ did something I regretted. Let it out."

Grimmjow's deep breath signaled to the orangette the other was going to take his advice.

"Aizen told me 'bout Kūgo Ginjō when he'd jus' started playin' superhero an' it wasn' even two weeks later Aizen showed everyone tha news article 'bout a middle-aged man foun' dead by a warehouse. I remember that guy he killed, ya know, he worked at a deli tha' sold the best salami in tha whole city an' when I was a kid livin' on the streets he use' ta leave packages of tha stuff outside an' I knew it was meant fer me. When I saw 'is picture I got really pissed off an' then when Aizen told me ta go get tha son of a bitch I was bouncin' off the walls I was so excited.

"Five an' a half years ago, three months, one week, an' four days before I met you, I hunted Kūgo Ginjō down to a townhouse on a nice, safe block. I knew 'fore that night he lived there wit' a man and they were a couple; all I recall is feelin' bad fer anyone who'd lay down fer that asshole. It was gonna be an easy mission, short an' sweet. All I had ta do was wait 'till he fell asleep, pick tha lock on his bedroom window and walk right up ta where he was laying, put a pillow over 'is face an' one round later it would be a done deal. I got so confident 'bout the whole thing I ended up overlookin' something. When it looked like Ginjō an'... his boyfriend were fast asleep, I scaled up ta the window, picked tha lock and I was in, jus' as planned... " Grimmjow trailed off, obviously almost to the exact moment where everything went to hell.

"Apparently this boyfriend of 'is liked ta read late at night an' he used ta put a blanket over his head so his little book light didn't annoy Ginjō. Fer the first time, something I hadn' planned for happened. The boyfriend heard tha window creak an' threw the blanket off his head ta see it was a strange man carryin' a gun who made tha noise. He started shouting, I can't remember what 'cause I jus' froze. I'd never been discovered 'fore then an' I knew Ginjō's lover wasn' in his _Xcution _an' completely innocent, but he'd seen my face so wha' the fuck was I goin' to do? Ginjō woke up an' jumped outta bed, his gun was righ' there in his nightstand drawer an' he aimed it at me and it was like my ears all of sudden worked again. He demanded I tell 'im who I was, who I worked for, all of wha' he'd picked up watchin' movies. I got my head back into tha game an' I knew I was the better, quicker shot so I cocked my own gun an' pointed my barrel right back at 'im, finger already pullin' the trigger. He was standin' directly twenty feet away from me an' I was barely aware his boyfriend stood behind 'im and a little to tha left. After tha' one bullet aimed fer right between Ginjō's beady little eyes, I swear time slowed down. I saw his lover push 'im back wit' unreal reflexes and tha' single round meant fer that bastard instead hit Shūkurō Tsukishima, blasted righ' through his throat. Thirty seconds later he was dead an' I was long gone."

Grimmjow huffed and he lurched backwards into his seat, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"I can't blame 'im, ya know - Ginjō, I mean," he said before swiveling his head to the side and locking gazes with Ichigo. "If someone came ta off me in my sleep and killed you accidentally, I would jus' be a clone of him, consumed by an obsessive hunger ta make that motherfucker pay."

"You are _nothing_ like him, Grimm. You're not even close," Ichigo protested fervently. "And at some point, not today - it doesn't even have be soon, but one day you've got to stop torturing yourself. What happened was awful, yeah, of course it was, but Tsukishima's death was an _accident_. You never would have pointed a gun at him purposefully and that's what's important. Besides, have you ever considered it was _his _choice to sacrifice himself to save the man he loved? I can't imagine a better way to go, personally."

Despite that Ichigo knew Grimmjow didn't want to and fought against it, his full lips spread apart in an amused grin. "Ya really are somethin', Ichi. I was damn lucky I was stayin' in that shithole of a motel tha' one week."

Ichigo chuckled, memories of their time in the motel flashing through his mind's eye. "You mean I was lucky. Don't you remember when we moved into the same room and I literally only had thirteen cents in my wallet? And I _saved_ it?"

"Yea', well I didn't have much more than that, and I couldn't 'ave survived a month without your bad ass Ramen skills. I ate noodles every nigh' like a king, except tha' one time ya experimented with tha bottle of maple syrup I snagged from tha diner; the dry heavin' didn't stop fer hours."

"Shut up, I saw the elf eat it in that movie, okay? Not to mention, I didn't hear anyone else we shared it with complaining!"

"They were stray dogs, Ichi."

The two men were now both laughing at the memory and Ichigo knew he forgot everything around them for a fleeting second until someone knocked on his window. Sobering instantly, Ichigo pressed the button to roll the tinted glass down to reveal a familiar, fox-like face.

"Don' mean ta interrupt ya two love birdies but duty calls, Ichigo," Gin said through the open window. "One minute 'till two on tha dot an' tha others are already in the cars in front of ya. May I ask wha' happened ta the chauffeur assigned ta drive this car ta the drop-off site... Grimmy?"

"Yea', poor guy wasn't feeling too hot so I offered to cover fer 'im and sent him on home," Grimmjow answered casually and Ichigo suspected what really happened to the chauffeur meant to drive his car.

"Yer generosity never fails ta amaze me, Grimmy," Gin said, smirk widening even more. "I assume ya got all tha info stored up there in tha' bright blue head of yers an' tha star of the evenin' Mr. Kurosaki's ready ta perform."

"Ya assume correctly."

"Good ta hear." Gin said, straightening up from his position bending over to look through the window. "Break a leg, Ichigo."

* * *

><p>Ichigo and Grimmjow stayed mute the drive from the headquarters to the area Ginjō's apartment was located. It wasn't uncomfortable or anything like that; they'd already said everything they needed to back at the garage and in the relative quiet Ichigo could now relax and prepare for, as Gin said, 'his starring role.' He knew now what his strategy was, disbelieving that he hadn't thought of it before; it was perfect.<p>

After twenty-five minutes or so spent in the town car, Grimmjow pulled over to the sidewalk on their right and stopped the vehicle directly next to a traditional stop sign. They'd reached the drop off site, the time for Ichigo to enact the plan developed by Aizen now here.

The orangette took a deep breath and went to open the door but his driver's hand snatched his wrist and prevented him from exiting the car just yet. Ichigo faced Grimmjow, the latter bringing his captured hand to Cupid's bow lips that kissed his knuckles.

"Jus' remember, you swore you'd come back to me," Grimmjow whispered and Ichigo smiled sadly, using his free hand to grip his lover's collar and pull him close for a brief but bone-melting kiss.

"I won't forget." They let go of each other at the same time, the younger opening his door and stepping out of the vehicle quickly while he still could. As soon as he shut the door closed, the town car peeled away under the master plan's instructions not to linger. "Love you, Grimm," Ichigo said under his breath, taking a moment and then spinning around to make his way down the street.

The apartment complex Ginjō occupied was easy to find since Ichigo knew what it looked like from the live footage earlier and it was one of five buildings on the street under six stories tall. Zipping up his jacket, he jogged to the structure's main entrance, doors unsurprisingly locked. Ichigo scanned the intercom mounted beside the doors and grinned in excitement upon spotting the only blank slot belonging to the tenant in 3A, pressing the button next to it. The intercom buzzed for nearly a full minute until finally someone answered.

"Who the fuck is this?" the voice crackled through the speaker. Ichigo held down the red button on the intercom that allowed the one on the other end to hear his.

"Hi, um, this is Ichigo... Ichigo Kurosaki. I'm, uh, looking for Kūgo Ginjō, are you him?" he said, making sure to sound timid and unsure. Apparently, it did the trick because Ginjō replied after a minute's thought.

"If you're who you say you are, why the hell are you looking for me?" Ginjō demanded, clearly suspicious but not nearly as irate as when he'd answered the intercom.

"I'm not trying to trick you or anything like that, I promise. I just have some questions for you, ones only you can answer," Ichigo said, picturing in his mind an overly eager kid asking their parents if they could get a dog.

"Questions about what?"

"About what happened five and a half years ago."

Thirty seconds and then the intercom buzzed loudly, Ichigo stifling his triumphant smile whilst he opened the door and stepped into the complex fashioned so the apartments were situated on the edges of the building, surrounding a metal, winding staircase in the middle. Ichigo took his time ascending to the third floor, still wanting to appear uncertain of whether or not he should be 'visiting' Ginjō, but he eventually stepped foot onto the third floor, strolling down the hallway to a door in the corner labeled '3A.'

He rapped light as feather on the door twice, his fingers and toes beginning to tingle as he caught the sound of footsteps approaching the door, which was then cracked open just the slightest bit. Ichigo felt his heart begin to beat so hard he swore everyone in the city could hear it when the right half of Kūgo Ginjō's face appeared in the narrow opening, a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

"Huh, so you really are stupid enough to come here on your own. Must be why you and the _Sexta _are a match made in heaven, right?" Ginjō laughed at his own joke.

"Um, actually we're not together anymore," Ichigo said, lowering his gaze down to his shoes and shuffling them in an uneasy gesture. "That's kinda why I'm here."

"Oh yeah?" Ginjō 's face, or the visible half rather, brightened in interest. "You down for a good time?"

"Er, not really," Ichigo said, using every ounce of his self-discipline not to let the disgust at the less than subtle invitation to have 'a good time' with the other man. "I wanted to ask a few questions, remember? About...?"

"Oh right," Ginjō said, briefly looking disappointed but apparently intrigued to hear his unexpected visitor's queries because the door shut again for a second and then swung open all the way. Ginjō stood in the threshold wearing a gray wife-beater and black sweatpants, a bottle of beer in one hand and a gold chain around his neck. "Whatever, come in, then."

Ichigo forced a grateful half-smile and walked into the _Xcution _leader's apartment. Ginjō forwent guiding his guest into the space, swiftly heading for the living room couch to flop onto it and leaving the orange-haired man to cautiously make his way further into the apartment.

The place wasn't nice by any means but it wasn't a complete dump either. The furniture was old but relatively clean, same going for the carpet, and there was a moderately new flat screen Ichigo hoped had been purchased recently since it was placed on top of the box it came in rather than a real piece of furniture. A few Chinese take-out boxes were still on the coffee table and it appeared Ginjō or a guest spilled a bag of potato chips beside the couch and the man hadn't gotten around to picking it up as of yet.

However, what really drew Ichigo's attention were the stacks of metal cases in the corner, ones very similar to the cases in which guns were stored. Not to mention the very same gun Ginjō had aimed at his face earlier that evening rest innocently on the coffee table between the take out boxes and where the dark-haired male had propped his feet up.

"So," Ginjō began, sipping from the bottle in his hand. "Before you ask me some of your questions I may or may not decide to answer, let me ask you something, Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Okay, that's fine with me," the orangette agreed in a meek manner the exact opposite of his usual demeanor. "What is it you want to know?"

"From what I can tell you're neither too stupid to live nor batshit insane so maybe you can explain why you thought it was a good idea to come and visit me, the man who threatened to kill you - what, six hours ago?" Ginjō crossed one leg over the other, knocking a take out box onto the floor. Ichigo tentatively sat down on a leather recliner next to the couch, mentally running through the story he'd constructed in the car.

"Um, well you already know I was dating the _Sexta_ but it wasn't really serious yet and then... we ran into you and the two other guys you were with. When you and he were speaking, I didn't really know what it was you were talking about but I figured something happened where you two and your... boyfriend?"

"Uh huh."

"Right, and I wanted _Sexta _and I to have a better relationship and talk about stuff, you know? So when we got home I asked him to tell me the story of what happened and after a while he finally gave in and told me," Ichigo said, darkening his expression by frowning deeply, looking off to the side to appear pensive. "I didn't expect him to rave on about how he murdered someone totally innocent of any wrongdoing like he was... _proud _of himself - " Ichigo saw a vein in Ginjō's temple tick and internally congratulated himself on the acting skills he never knew he had "- His whole attitude was disgusting and I couldn't believe it took me that long to see the _real _him. I told him I couldn't be with someone like that and he didn't believe I was serious. I got so frustrated I shouted that we were over for good and left our apartment to walk around the city. I guess it was fate or something because I was in the burger place next door and saw you walking into this building. Took me a while to gather up the nerve to actually buzz you on the intercom." Ichigo bowed his head like one would to hide an embarrassing blush.

"All right, so you already know what happened that night: he killed an innocent person in cold blood. What else would you want to know? You said you had questions for me only I could answer," Ginjō said, unknowingly falling right into the trap Ichigo laid out for him.

"Yeah, um, I kinda lied about that," Ichigo confirmed with a shy smile. "I didn't really come here to ask you anything. I came here because I want to help."

"Help," Ginjō repeated in a deadpan manner, obviously dubious of the orangette's intentions.

"Look, I don't like hurting people, I really don't, but... don't you think some people deserve a taste of their own medicine when they've done something _really_ bad?"

"You mean like 'shooting an innocent person in the throat and then bragging about it years later' kind of bad?" Ginjō asked, smirking and for the first time since he'd pressed the intercom button Ichigo was allowed to show what he truly felt in a sly grin which Ginjō was supposed to believe stemmed from their budding partnership to show the _Sexta _long-awaited justice.

"Not to mention the 'wasting someone's time by stringing them along despite no intentions of commitment' kind of bad too," Ichigo said. "I want some kind of retribution for everything I gave to that bastard when we went out but I don't really have the resources to pull that off..."

"And I do," Ginjō said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "So, what do you have to offer, Kurosaki?"

"Just these," Ichigo said nonchalantly as he reached into his pocket and took out his own set of keys to his and Grimmjow's apartment.

"Keys to his apartment? That's it?"

"Hmm, well maybe I could tell you about all the times _Sexta _took me to the _Espada _headquarters and now I know almost every password and code used in the building..."

"If you're lying about that, Kurosaki, I promise I will find you and wring your neck like a dish towel." Ginjō's threat was so immediate, Ichigo blinked rapidly a few times in surprise. Of course, he basically had just promised the man a surefire way to infiltrate the headquarters of his rivals.

"I don't doubt that you would and I like my neck the way it is, so you'll have to wait and see I'm telling you the truth," Ichigo said, rising from the leather recliner and brushing himself off. "And I may drop in uninvited on people who want to kill me but I'm not stupid enough to simply hand over all those passwords for nothing."

Ginjō's eyes narrowed up at the orange-haired youth, clearly wary of what could be asked in return. "What do you want?"

"I want all my stuff that's still at _his _place. You go with me when he's not home and help me get all of my things, I'll give every last code and password I know to you," Ichigo said, raising a finger in the air to make sure the other male knew all of the conditions. "Specifically, I want my stuff back _tonight_. He's on a mission until morning so it'll be no problem. In and out."

"You want me to go with you to the _Sexta_'s apartment and help you get your dinner plates and DVD's? That's all you want in exchange for the security codes?" Ginjō said disbelievingly.

"I know he'll get what's coming to him if I give them to you, so yeah. I think it's a pretty good deal and I'd take it if I were you," Ichigo said, folding his arms over his middle and gazing expectantly down at the still seated male. Ginjō pursed his lips as he thought for a moment and then sighed out a "Fine, let me put on some jeans" sending a thrill of victory through Ichigo.

Three minutes later, Ginjō emerged from the bedroom now wearing jeans and the fur-lined jacket he'd been sporting in the alleyway. Ichigo gulped when the wannabe vigilante snatched his gun off the coffee table and tucked it into his waistband. Hopefully he'd never get the chance to use it...

As they walked through the building doors and onto the now empty, silent street, Ichigo's nerves practically vibrated. This was what it all came down to and after the deed was done he could go back home with Grimmjow, a heavenly premise after all the shit they'd gone through that night.

The two males set foot on the sidewalk, Ichigo remembering to not walk like he was expecting something and the orangette was beginning to question exactly when any of the three _Espada_ would take the shot. His train of thought stopped instantly as something solid caught him around the neck and jerked him back a few steps to collide with what he could've sworn was a brick wall. However, he was quick to realize the something entrapping him with a powerful hold around his throat was Ginjō's arm and he'd slammed against the man's body and was currently being held there. Ichigo's instincts screamed at him to fight, to get away from the threat, but he'd barely struggled before he felt something cold and hard pressed to his temple and he turned to stone.

"You little bitch, I knew it was a set up," Ginjō snarled from above his head. "You had some acting chops at the beginning, I'll give you that, and you really had me going until you saw I was falling for it and relaxed enough to let your shy boy routine slip. That's when I went to get changed and looked out the window to see one of your friends on top of that roof right there. Don't count on any of them to save you either, you'll be cold and stiff by the time they get down here," Ginjō roughly turned them around and the man used his gun to point to the top of one of the tallest buildings a few doors down. Ichigo couldn't see a thing, not that he was going to respond verbally anyway.

_Shit_, he thought, _this must be one of those rare moments of intelligence_. He hadn't even realized he'd slipped up.

"And so this means you are involved with that fucker _Sexta_ and I can go ahead with my original plan of an eye for an eye," Ginjō ranted, his voice maniacally ranging in pitch as he spoke and he continued to spin the both of them in circles, making it impossible for the best sniper to get a clear shot. "Hah, I didn't even need to try to find wherever he would try to hide you from me; you walked right into my apartment, how lucky is that! What was it you said earlier... oh right, it must have been fate or _something_, and after waiting and planning and hating that blue-haired son of a bitch I finally have my golden opportunity to get him back!"

Ichigo probably should have kept his mouth shut just then but hindsight is twenty twenty, right?

"That's all you care about, isn't it? Making_ him_ suffer," the orangette wheezed out as Ginjō rotated them on the spot. "It isn't about Tsukishima now, the man who loved you so much he threw himself in front of a bullet and _died _for you. You don't really care anymore about avenging his death. Now you're just completely obsessed with _Sexta _and proving you're better than him, right?"

Apparently Ginjō didn't appreciate Ichigo's commentary because he increased the force with which he constricted the younger man's windpipe.

"You don't have a fucking clue about what you're saying like you're a shrink or some shit," Ginjō growled, digging the barrel painfully into Ichigo's temple. "How does it feel, Kurosaki, knowing you're going to die because of that bastard you _love unconditionally_? Are you frightened of the pain, of what may happen to you when your heart stops beating? Please tell me what it's like to know you'll die before your life even begins all because _he _couldn't keep his paws off of you?"

If he'd been able to speak, Ichigo would have answered that dying because of Grimmjow, _for _him, felt undeniably _right_, his perfect death. He knew he wouldn't uphold his oath to Grimmjow to come back to him but, in his own words, he couldn't imagine a better way to go. But all he managed to do was flash his soon-to-be killer a bright grin before closing his eyes.

"Tch, you really _are _stupid," Ginjō snorted derisively and Ichigo tensed in dreadful apprehension of the inevitable.

"No, Ginjō, I'm afraid you're still the stupid one."

Ichigo's eyes snapped open, seeing firstly that the man holding him finally stood still in the middle of the street and on the sidewalk directly across from them were three figures and three matching gun barrels. Ichigo recognized the gun wielders immediately as the three snipers, Starrk, Halibel, and Nnoitra, the second the one to insult Ginjō.

"You certainly got down here fast; this one must be pretty important," Ginjō said when he'd recovered from the shock of the _Espada_ member's appearance.

"We saw your ugly mug peeking through the window, dumbass," Nnoitra said, rolling his one eye. Ichigo was sure Ginjō's 'ugly mug' had contorted with rage because his airway was increasingly compromised by the man's arm further constricting around his neck.

"Yeah but I still screwed up your plan to snipe me, didn't I? And I don't think I have to tell you how this goes; put your weapons on the ground and kick them over or I'll put a bullet into your _Sexta_'s sweetheart's head."

"Dear fuckin' god you watch too many movies," Nnoitra said. "It's just pathetic, really, if you can't figure out three guns beats one."

"Maybe if I didn't have the kid that would be the case," Ginjō defended. "But I can get in a good five rounds before one of your bullets even hits me. You can't deny that, it's simple logic."

"Are you certain of that?" Halibel said and a split second later Ichigo flinched at the violent _crack_ of a gunshot. In front of him he could see no injuries on any of the three _Espada. _Ginjōroared in pain right by his ear and yet the grip the man had on him didn't slacken, which didn't make any sense.

"An ear shot, Starrk? Not very good sportsmanship," Halibel said and Ichigo was sure behind her turtleneck she was stifling a humored smile. The _Primera _shrugged, lowering his smoking gun down to his side. All over the block several windows brightened, their occupants flipping on the lights and even peering outside to see what was going on before quickly shoving back the curtains, alarmed by what they'd witnessed.

"I wanted to get at least one in," he said lethargically.

"I see," Halibel said, putting her gun by her side as well. "Then it was the best choice, considering."

Nnoitra looked at the other two incredulously, arm not wavering from where it held his weapon in the air. "Considering what? Why the hell are you putting your guns down? If the kid croaks we'll never hear the end of it."

_Gee, glad to see someone cares so much_, Ichigo thought resentfully but he shared the _Quinto_'s bafflement.

"Do you ever listen to your radio?" Halibel asked, securing her gun to a harness attached to her hips and Ichigo figured Ginjō was lost as he was, therefore why his loud mouth had stopped running. Or he was still in too much pain from the 'ear shot' courtesies of Starrk.

"I gotta listen to Ulquiorra blab on and on about nothing at headquarters and the manor; why would I listen to him do the same thing over some high-tech walkie?"

"Because then you would know why our presence will soon no longer be necessary," Halibel said, crossing her arms under her bust.

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"It is not my responsibility to keep you informed."

"Don't be a bitch and just spit it out already!"

"I can-" Halibel began to say but an inordinately loud yawn cut her off. Ichigo's eyes darted over to Starrk who appeared on the brink of exhaustion despite his only recent physical exercise being the contraction of one finger to pull his gun's trigger.

"No more arguing, it's so tiring," he said, suppressing another yawn. "Oh and the news: _Sexta_'s coming."

Two opposing forces of bliss and fear welled up in Ichigo, equal in strength and causing his knees to weaken, nearly buckling underneath him. While it was utterly impossible for the revelation Grimmjow was on his way not to send a mixture of excited delight and titillating euphoria coursing through Ichigo's veins he couldn't deny he wished Grimmjow wouldn't rush right into the line of fire, the potential of harm coming to the blue-haired man too real for Ichigo to bear.

"Oh, well shit why couldn't you say that before?" Nnoitra said, dropping his weapon-holding arm as well. "Did _Cuatro_ give his ETA?"

"Yes," Starrk said, raising his left wrist to check the time on his watch. "He should be here... right... about... now."

Ichigo looked all around, searching for the familiar form belonging to his lover and frowning when there was no sign of Grimmjow anywhere on the block. Then the squealing sound of tires filled the air and from around the corner materialized the sleek lines of a black towncar headed straight for them at a horrifically fast speed.

"And that's my cue to go home," Nnoitra said, cackling as he trained his one eye on the man still holding Ichigo around the throat. "Run away while you still can, dumbass."

Ginjō scoffed, clearly not taking the_ Espada_'s cautionary advice seriously, but the three snipers said not another word, vanishing into a shadowy alleyway just as the towncar screeched to a violent stop twenty feet from the _Xcution _leader and his current hostage. Ichigo felt the man behind him disturbingly shudder with excitement.

"This has to be some more fate working its magic, don't you think?" Ginjō said into Ichigo's ear though the orangette leaned as far away as possible. "I really think I would have missed out if I killed you when he wasn't here to see it, but you know... I've always wondered if it's true what everyone says about the _Sexta _being the best, not to mention you've blacklisted yourself in my eyes. Hmm, what to do, what to do..."

Ichigo purposefully kept silent, not responding to Ginjō's taunts as the man's psyche seemed to unravel right then and there. Besides, his focus was entirely on the opening car driver's side door that slammed closed hard enough to shake the entire vehicle.

It was totally unreal that Ichigo had been with Grimmjow as long as he had and was still blown away like the winds of a hurricane. Under the glow of the street lamps, the man radiated beautiful fury. He was dressed the same as before, plaid flannel shirt hanging open over his chest and abdomen, his distressed jeans riding low on his hips, but there was one noticeable difference and that was the .357 Magnum dangling in his right hand. Lovely and menacing, Grimmjow wholly emulated the avenging angel Ichigo compared him to their first encounter.

Grimmjow took swift, long strides as he advanced on them, eyes burning holes into his crazed enemy. Ichigo almost felt bad for the man holding him at gunpoint, that glare possessed a godly power and promised death on swift wings. Almost. Especially considering what happened next.

"Ah, I think I've got it now," Ginjō said quietly so only Ichigo could hear and then the orangette was falling down and landing in a heap on the black street surface, pushed by Ginjō's hands. The next moment turned into a blur, too much occurring at once to comprehend fully. All Ichigo was sure of was he heard Grimmjow's bestial snarl, rumbling and deep, and so he turned onto his side and started to push himself up as cruel, mad laughter pierced the air. Then he definitely heard the distinctive _crack _of a gunshot and someone's agonized scream drowning everything else out.

Everything went from muddled darkness to a blinding intensity as his senses rocketed into overdrive and then Ichigo realized the one screaming was _him_.

Pure, unadulterated pain hit him like a freight train, blazing through his entire body from where it flared in the upper part of his right arm. Instinctively, he grasped his arm with his left hand, still laying on his side on the street, and he immediately felt liquid, hot and thick, seep through his fingers. Clenching his jaw, his screams quieted to strangled gasps passing through his gritted teeth, and his mind finally caught onto the fact he'd been shot.

Grunts and growls along with the sickening, unmistakable sound of something hard smacking against flesh reached his ears. Heart pounding rapidly in his chest, Ichigo turned over onto his back and used his core muscles to sit up. A rush of adrenaline ran through him, both from the injury and him suddenly remembering the two men also on the street, spurring petrifying panic and a desperate wish the one he cared for was all right.

Grimmjow and Ginjō were about ten feet away from him and Ichigo easily concluded that after Ginjō shot him in the arm, the _Sexta _had lost all control and rushed the other man, both of them crashing to the street. Grimmjow's rage had consumed him so much, he seemed to have forgotten he had a gun lying on the ground a few feet away as he slammed his fist into Ginjō's face over and over. He'd pinned his opponent down by straddling Ginjō's, the hand not ruining the man's face wrapped around Ginjō's throat so tightly the skin under the blood pouring from mouth and nose was turning a mottled purple. And yet all Ginjō was doing was trying to pry Grimmjow's hand off of his neck, not even attempting to block the onslaught of devastating blows.

Then Ichigo spotted Ginjō's other hand. Apparently when he fell his gun had slipped out of his grip but it hadn't gone very far and Ginjō's arm was stretched out to the side, fingers extended and inching closer to where his weapon lay on the street. Ichigo's eyes widened in alarm and struggled to get to his feet. He had to get that gun before Ginjō or it was all over.

He was unsteady on his feet, dizziness from loss of blood making walking even harder, but he only took a fraction of a second to pull himself together before staggering over to where the two men were locked in combat. Ginjō noticed him approaching a moment too late, Ichigo only a step away, and the man snarled out an unintelligible curse as the orangette let go of his wounded arm and snatched the gun up with his left hand. Straightening, Ichigo's hand shook as he thought back to his brief training in using guns, cocking the weapon and aiming for Ginjō's thoroughly beaten face.

The man's dark eyes flashed with fear and Ichigo's finger froze on the trigger.

He couldn't do it.

"Ichigo, don't!" Grimmjow's voice brought him back to reality and he blinked, his lover suddenly in front of him, easing the gun from his hand and his broad upper body blocking Ginjō from view. Ichigo opened his mouth to say something, he couldn't remember what exactly. However, he was cut short by shrieking sirens steadily growing louder and louder. Alarmed, he looked up at Grimmjow whose reaction was a simple roll of his blue eyes. "Sure, _now _they show up."

Just as a line of police cars raced onto the street, the infamous, spinning red and blue lights blindingly bright, Grimmjow turned his body, allowing Ichigo to see a now standing Ginjō holding the gun belonging to the _Sexta_. But he stiffened as the squad cars braked to a halt halfway down the street. Grimmjow took the opportunity and shot.

Ginjō's body jerked backwards and collapsed, a single bullet in between his eyes.

Ichigo swore the next thirty seconds passed by in slow motion as he watched Ginjō's life end right in front of him and the gun fell from Grimmjow's hand. He was barely aware of the blaring sirens and car doors opening. A voice yelled at him through a megaphone but he couldn't comprehend what it was saying. He felt totally disconnected from reality and like the world was spinning, the adrenaline rush depleted, leaving him disoriented and utterly exhausted. Panting heavily, Ichigo's trembling legs gave out and he fell to his knees, left hand automatically reaching up to clutch his injured arm.

"Ichi?" he heard a familiar, soothing voice call his name. "Ichigo!" The panicked shout and feeling of hands on his face pulled the orangette away from the darkness threatening to pull him under. Eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed fluttered open, revealing the dazzling sight of Grimmjow's face, cobalt pools shimmering with a myriad of emotions.

"Mmm, Grimm..."

"_Step away from the boy and put your hands where we can see 'em,_" the person speaking through the megaphone, most likely a man, commanded. Ichigo shook his head, trying to get his mind to focus on what was happening. The police were there, probably due to a slew of phone calls from the people who lived on this block, and they were posed behind the hoods and open doors of their squad cars, guns out and pointed in his and Grimmjow's direction.

"I'm not doin' anything 'till you get him some goddamn help!"

"_Do as we say and then the paramedics will be allowed through_."

"He's fucking been shot! He needs help _now_!"

"_Step away from the boy and put your hands in the air now and he will get medical attention right away. Do it in the next ten seconds or we'll shoot." _

_That_ caught Ichigo's attention. "No!" he gasped, using his good arm to reach up and grasp the front of Grimmjow's shirt. "Don't get shot, Grimmjow. Just do what they say. _Please_."

Grimmjow looked like he was in physical pain, bared teeth clenched and brows furrowed together over his blazing blue eyes, but he nodded anyway. "All righ', Ichi. Guess I'll see ya later, then."

Ichigo bit his lip to keep from whimpering when Grimmjow moved away from him, hands in the air as he rose to his feet. Ichigo's sigh of relief died when his lover was tackled to the ground by no less than five police officers who wrenched his arms behind his back and held him down as they snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. Grimmjow's lip curled in a silent snarl yet he made no move to fight back even when they lifted him to his feet by the back of his shirt and began to forcefully lead him back to the line of squad cars.

Ichigo couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as the reality that Grimmjow was being arrested fully dawned on him. The police had outright witnessed the blue-haired man shoot and kill someone. He wanted to yell to the police officers to stop and listen to him, tell them Grimmjow was innocent, it'd been in self-defense or even that Ichigo had made him do it, _anything_ to convince them to let Grimmjow go. However, he lost his chance as three paramedics surrounded him, one pushing a stretcher while the other two carried plastic cases. The latter two knelt on either side of him, gloved hands prying Ichigo's death grip away from the gunshot wound, feeling for his pulse, and wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his left arm.

"No, wait," Ichigo said in a faint voice, weakly trying to push away the paramedic on his left side. "Stop it, I need... To talk to the police."

"Please just calm down, sir," the one now carefully cutting through the sleeves of Ichigo's shirt and jacket said, their colleague grasping the orangette's wrist to hold his good arm still. "What's his BP?"

"Sixty over forty and dropping and his pulse is through the roof; the bullet probably hit his brachial artery."

"Shit, let's move him now."

Ichigo attempted to protest again and found he could barely think of what to say, let alone actually speak. He fought to stay conscious but there wasn't an ounce of energy left in him anywhere and he felt his body lowered onto the stretcher, his failing vision catching sight of the early rays of dawn brightening the dark sky. The night was over, giving into the inevitable light of day, and for some reason Ichigo thought it was okay for him to give in too. He closed his eyes and let the fathomless void take him away.

_This was far from the end._

* * *

><p><em>Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide.<em>

_I'll take it by your side._

_Such imagination seems to help the feeling slide._

_I'll take it by your side._

_Instant correlation sucks and breeds a pack of lies._

_I'll take it by your side._

_Oversaturation curls the skin and tans the hide._

_I'll take it by your side._

_tick - tock _

_tick - tick - tick - tick - tick - tock_

_I'm unclean, a libertine_

_And every time you vent your spleen,_

_I seem to lose the power of speech,_

_You're slipping slowly from my reach._

_You grow me like an evergreen,_

_You never see the lonely me at all_

_I take the plan, spin it sideways._

_I fall._

_Without you, I'm nothing._

_Without you, I'm nothing at all_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, I hope that this was worth the wait. I know I went kind of overboard with this one, both in length and in general sappiness. Ack. I was going to add even more, so it wouldn't end on such a cliffhanger but you guys know me, I wouldn't leave things like this.

Even though this is not the last chapter, this is the conclusion of the portion of the story written in Ichigo's point of view. The next and last chapter will be written from Grimmjow's perspective. I'm going to try and get it out as fast as possible. :)

Song lyrics are from "Without You, I'm Nothing" by Placebo.


	7. Ascension

**...**

**Blue Collar Angel Part VII **

_Ascension_

* * *

><p><em>I've got to make a play <em>

_To make my lover stay _

_So what would an angel say _

_The devil wants to know _

_What I need is a good defense _

_'Cause I'm feelin' like a criminal _

_And I need to redeemed _

_To the one I've sinned against _

_Because he's all I ever knew of love _

_~ "Criminal" - Fiona Apple_

* * *

><p><em>...<em>

_**Grimmjow Jaegerjaques**_

_**...**_

* * *

><p>Grimmjow believed there was a special place in Hell just for him.<p>

_Beep... Beep... Beep... _

This must be it.

It was all his fault, there was no denying that, and he heartily agreed he was the one who should have received some sort of divine retribution. He deserved it a thousand times over. He'd told _Him _that as many times, feeling like an idiot while he spoke to the man upstairs when he'd neither believed nor doubted his existence practically his whole life. He could have been talking to empty air for all he knew, but desperation and outrage had pushed Grimmjow over the edge. Way over.

Perhaps he should've listened to the priests and nuns who'd preached to him to pray to God and study the bible when he'd been in those god-awful soup kitchens and food pantries as a kid. Maybe then His Holiness would answer his calls, but then again He never had when Grimmjow was a child growing up in the rundown projects.

His dad had always sent his son to those damn places to get food for the house since the man pissed all of his welfare check away on booze and cigarettes, beer bottles he used to throw at Grimmjow and smoldering butts he burned the blue-haired boy's arms and legs with. And that had been a piece of cake compared to the fun his father had with those steel-toes boots. It was a wonder he'd never punctured a lung or broken a rib.

One good thing about growing up in that hellhole was that it made Grimmjow strong, tough, resilient. He knew no mercy, no tenderness, no love, not even at thirteen, when Aizen had found him living on the streets after running away from the abusive asshole who dared to call himself his father. That thick-skinned, angry at the world attitude had been what attracted Aizen to him in the first place.

Living in the mansion with the brunette 'businessman' and the other kids that trickled in and out was like a dream come true for him. Not only did Aizen indulge his every teenage want, Grimmjow at last put his natural rage to good use and learned to fight. He'd been instructed in martial arts from all over the seven continents like Northern Shaolin Kung Fu, Muay Thai, Aikido, Capoeira, Musangwe, and Krav Maga. He'd been taught how to use and make weapons, though he'd particularly excelled at sharp shooting - his aim was beyond perfect. His other studies had included strategy, survival skills, and unfortunately the 'standards' like History and Math. Even so, to say he'd been the star pupil in all of his physical education lessons was an understatement. Grimmjow was the singular Espada in training to earn a smile from Aizen himself.

By the time he turned eighteen he had almost completely forgotten about the incident in the garden where his guardian had shot and killed a man right in front of him. However, he soon remembered that Aizen's intentions were not squeaky clean, yet they had ended up a little different than he'd expected. Grimmjow had been groomed into a killer, yes, but one that slaughtered the guilty.

This twisted form of justice had worked for him for a while, he a faceless vigilante ridding the city of evil and a hero to the people. It wasn't until he'd made that one mistake, his first and only error in all his years as the _Sexta_, and there had been innocent blood on his hands. It was not fear but enlightenment that it cost him, his world warping into reality right before him. Grimmjow's life had not been what he'd thought it to be; it'd been meaningless, empty,... hollow.

So he'd left Rukongai for the first time in his life. He hadn't left so much as a note before he packed up what he could and jumped on the first train headed out in search of something... _more. _

The world had seemed so different when he'd stopped analyzing everything as a threat and ignoring that which he considered harmless. He realized he liked music, especially hard classic rock to go along with his newfound admiration for retro cars, and he _loved _cheeseburgers, an indulgence not included in the strict diet Aizen had fed him. It was exhilarating, yet he felt as if something was still missing, something to hold on to, something _important_. With so much new to explore, everything passed by him in a dizzying blur until it came to a screeching halt when he ran dangerously low on funds in a small town named Hanging Dog.

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

Grimmjow never thought he'd be grateful to only be able to afford a stay in a fleabag motel just outside the town limits, surrounded by forest and the metal monstrosity of a steel mill. Once in the room he'd eaten some Chinese takeout and drank a beer or two then fallen asleep watching the football game. Despite that after a day's travel he was out like a light, his slumber was disturbed by a loud thud and then a bang coming from right outside his door.

He'd never forget what had been so clearly said in the hallway as he instinctually shook off the haze of sleep, the filth that had been spewing from those bastards' mouths and their jeering laughter. He still couldn't think of those hateful words without snarling silently. Grimmjow had barely begun to analyze the situation before bursting his door open in full search and destroy mode.

Needless to say, he'd laid the three puissants out in under a minute, letting them off far too easy by allowing them to run for it, but there had been a good reason for doing so, he swore. Because what he'd been looking for was right there, staring up at him with big brown eyes that were forcefully beautiful. Those pair of expressive, opalescent amber eyes conquered Grimmjow completely, a slave to the exquisite power they held. And that was all she wrote...

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

_T_he blunette had never known love in his life yet it was surprisingly easy to succumb to its lilting lullaby of a siren song, luring him into the depths of a passion he'd thought myth 'till that night and it seemed everything he'd ever heard of love was lackluster in comparison to his devotion, his possession, his adoration, and his protection. He figured it was because it is that the longer a man awaits love the stronger it becomes, and the more treasured.

Now look at what he'd done, having moved them away from the familiarity of their little house in Hanging Dog to the bustling danger of Rukongai. How could he have been so reckless, so ignorant, so… stupid. Yes, it had all been to see happiness glittering in those compellingly emotive brandy-colored orbs by providing financial security and full health and the opportunities to pursue dreams not available in that miserable small town, but what was the cost?

Grimmjow knew he'd failed the one he called his 'sweetheart', believing returning to his old position as _Sexta _would solve everything when all it had done was keep them from each other at all hours of the night and day and now… _this_.

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

Christ, what if instead of this white room full of machines and tubes Grimmjow was on the steps of a cathedral, wearing black and shouldering the weight of a black pine box as it was carried to the churchyard?

Grimmjow's growl was thunderous in the relatively silent room and the sound of metal clanking on metal was heard as he threw his hands up to run them through his hair in agony and frustration. Narrowed blue eyes glared accusingly at the serene face to his right, eyes closed and a clear breathing mask covering the nose and mouth.

Dressed in a white hospital gown and lying within the just as white bed, it appeared as if there was a sleeping angel in front of Grimmjow, who wanted nothing more than for it to wake up.

_Beep... Beep… Beep…_

"Goddamnit, I can't stand that fucking noise," Grimmjow grumbled, covering his ears to try and block it out, yet that proved futile. "Two days – _two damn days _– I've been sitting here listening to that thing waitin' for ya to open those pretty brown eyes of yours, sweetheart. I know you hate it when I call you anything girly like that but maybe if I piss you off enough you'll jump up outta that bed and give me a black eye and a few good bruises. Wouldn't that just be peachy, mmm?"

_Bee-_

"Stupid fucking doctor; she told me that maybe if I talk to you like this you can hear me and then wake the hell up already," the blunette muttered harshly, cursing that doctor in all kinds of unholy ways in his mind. He sighed heavily, folding his arms on the bed rail and resting his chin atop them s"o he wasn't ten inches from wild strands of nectarine orange messier than usual due to lack of grooming.

Reaching out toward those vibrant wayward locks, Grimmjow just managed to brush his fingertips over the silken hairs near the temple where there was a nasty purplish bruise. It killed him that was all he was able to touch, wanting to caress the peachy skin of a cheekbone and intertwine those slim, elegant fingers with his own larger, rougher ones.

"C'mon, sweetheart, I know you can do it," he whispered, the words for one person's ears only. "Please, babe. I only got twenty minutes and I won't be able to see ya for… a long time. Just lemme see those eyes of yours before they get 'ere, just for a second. Ya know I don't beg but…. _please_."

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

Nothing. Grimmjow nearly kicked the rollaway medicine cart over in his desperation turned to ire. However, he restrained himself, not wanting to accidentally damage any of the important medical equipment.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he closed his eyes and exhaled through his mouth in an effort to calm down and it did help quell the fire in his gut a little but the disappointment and anguish remained. He didn't know what he would do if his twenty minutes passed up and he never got the chance to say goodbye, so he might as well do it now and wish that somehow he would be heard.

"I don't blame ya for wanting ta ignore me, y'know. I know what happened was my fault. I couldn't even get there in time to get you away from him, I don' deserve to be here in this room with ya, I know that, too," Grimmjow said, eyes still closed as even looking at the still form on the bed was too much for him to handle as he admitted his failures. "I never deserved ya. I could never take care of ya and whenever I tried I just fucked it all up. 'Ey, but even if we never see each other 'gain, I'm gonna make sure Aizen helps ya out with whatever you want and you damn well better let him, ya stubborn little brat."

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

"I still love ya so fucking much it's prob'ly illegal in the other thirty states too now. Forget everythin' else 'bout me but… don' forget that, a'ight?" Grimmjow opened his eyes and saw the orange-haired man still comatose before him and shook his head.

Bittersweet moments are the hardest to bear, he believed. He felt as if he'd let go of a delicate butterfly captured between his palms and watched it flutter away, pain and serenity both making his heart pang at the loss of the beauty that was once his.

"And you lived happily after, or some shit like that," Grimmjow huffed, leaning back in his chair as far as he could, the metallic clanking sounding ringing out yet again. "The end…"

Finding it too difficult to keep staring at the boy he wanted with his entire being to be in his arms, safe, happy, and healthy, once again, the blunette let his head loll back so he could gaze up at the ceiling. Only eighteen minutes to go…

"G-guh… " sounded a strange gurgling noise and immediately Grimmjow snapped his gaze back to the hospital bed, a confused sneer arching one turquoise brow.

Ichigo still appeared as if he was sleeping, his eyes closed though screwed shut instead of resting peacefully, but the sound was definitely coming from him. A hundred panicked conclusions ran through Grimmjow's mind, like the young man was choking or unable to breathe or having some sort of coma nightmare. Thanking the staff for allowing him to sit close enough to the bed he could grab the nurse call button, Grimmjow snatched it up and smashed the red button repeatedly, wondering why it was taking so long after five seconds.

"Ha-… guh," Ichigo warbled behind his breathing mask and his head turned to the side just the slightest bit.

"Ichi?" Grimmjow asked hesitantly, bowing down closer to the other. Yet that was the moment two nurses burst into the room, both eying him with a mixture of nervousness and suspicion and edging around where he was seated to reach the other side of Ichigo's bed.

"So, what's going on?" the first woman, the doctor, asked, plastering on a fake smile as she addressed Grimmjow.

"Just listen to him," the man demanded, pointing at the orangette who made more unintelligible noises that turned into outright gagging. "Do something!"

"Okay, let's all calm down now," the doctor said, lowering the palms of her hands to punctuate. "The patient is probably nearing consciousness and finds the breathing tube uncomfortable so we'll remove it and make sure he's breathing fine on his own, okey dokey?"

The look Grimmjow gave her would've given the Devil himself the chills.

Moving swiftly, no doubt because of the intimidating presence watching their every move, the women pulled the clear mask off of Ichigo's face and carefully began to slide out the two joined, thin tubes that had been taped inside the boy's nose. They seemed to stretch on forever and as the last of it was drawn out, Ichigo made a small noise like a groan only raspier, so the nurse went to get a glass of water and the other checked his vital signs.

"Helloooo, Mr. Kurosaki," she called to the virtually unresponsive patient, pushing back his left eyelid and shining a little flashlight in his eye then reaching lower down the bed to hold his hand in hers. "If you can hear me, squeeze my fingers, okay? Can you do that? Mr. Kurosaki, can you hear or understand me at all?"

This went on for a couple of minutes until the doctor sighed, pocketing her flashlight and stringing her stethoscope back around her neck. "Well, he's still unresponsive but he's showing progress and breathing on his own, which is a good sign. If he wakes up or if anything else unusual happens, just push the button for the nurses' station, all right? I'll come back in an hour."

Then it was just the two of them again.

_Thirteen minutes left…_

Grimmjow was quiet as the grave, studying the face that had been fully revealed now all of that disturbing medical equipment had been removed. Ichigo almost looked like himself again, but he was no less striking despite everything that had happened to him. Fuck, Grimmjow was going to miss seeing that face and smelling his fragrance of cinnamon, sandalwood, and vanilla and resting his head on Ichigo's lap so he could play with his hair when they watched television and getting tangled in their bedsheets whilst in the throes of feverish, burning passion and-

"G-Grimm…"

Oh and how could he forget how much he would miss that honeyed baritone, sweet and masculine at the same time.

"Grimm-…jow."

His eager cerulean gaze whipped back to Ichigo's face, where those big brown eyes were staring up at him from underneath layers of dark lashes. He almost jumped the poor orangette, jerking forward in his chair and making the metallic clinking noise again.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow sighed in relief and bliss, watching as the other glanced around the room and steadily began to put the pieces together of where he was. "Yer in the hospital, but Doc said yer gonna be fine," he hastened to soothe his lover's nerves.

"How l-long… have I be-been here?" Ichigo asked, his voice coarse as sandpaper.

"Two days," Grimmjow answered and the younger's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "They kept ya under 'cause ya needed four surgeries on yer shoulder an' a few blood transfusions."

Ichigo automatically lifted his hand to reach for his injured shoulder where Ginjou had shot him and winced when the motion yanked on the IV needle embedded in the vein on top of it, instantly dropping it back to his side. "Water, please," he rasped and Grimmjow saw the cup of water where the nurse had set it on top of a cabinet. Scowling, he leaned back as far as he could, the chair tipping back on its back legs, and used one foot on the side of the bed to balance himself whilst he laid himself out almost parallel to the ground. Extending his neck as far as it would go, Grimmjow grunted in triumph as his teeth clamped onto the rim of the cup and picked it up off the counter.

He eased himself back into his former position, still holding the cup in his mouth like a dog with an empty food bowl and presented it to Ichigo, who took it in spite of the bewildered expression on his face. Nevertheless, he gulped down nearly the whole cup of water before asking the obvious.

"Grimm, why exactly are you handcuffed to the bed?"

The blue-haired man's shoulders dropped and he bent over to rest his elbows on his denim-covered knees. This was the one con about Ichigo waking up in time to see him shipped off. "Well, it ain't for fun, sweetheart, I'll tell ya that much," he said, a sardonic half-smile crossing his lips.

"I figured that much, idiot," Ichigo snapped, flinching probably from pain when he shifted onto his side to face the other man. "It's about what happened with… Ginjou, isn't it?"

"Yeah, apparently ya can't go around shooting bastards in the head without sufferin' a few consequences," Grimmjow said, hoping he could just hint at what that might be and wouldn't have to actually say it aloud. "Well, at least ya can' do it in front of a bunch a police and pedestrians."

"So you were arrested?" Ichigo cried out, his good hand latching onto one of his lover's wrists where the silver bracelets were securely fastened with two deadbolts considering the man's reputation. "But-…but you were only trying to help me! If you hadn't done something, he would've killed us both."

"Well, that's how Gin's spinning it."

"Gin? The silver-haired guy that never opens his eyes?"

"The very one. He does a lot of odd jobs for Espada but his main title is Aizen's attorney; has a law degree from Stanford or something," Grimmjow answered, shrugging his shoulders. "He's the one who got the judge ta let me stay in here with you for two days 'fore they haul me away, hence the cuffs."

Ichigo made to sit up but Grimmjow was faster, lifting one of his legs over the bed rail and gently pinning the orange-haired boy to the mattress which earned him a pouty glare for about two seconds. Then the reality of what he'd said seemingly kicked in and Ichigo's mouth dropped in horror.

"What do you mean 'haul you away'? Like, as in…."

Grimmjow didn't have to answer. "They'll be here in about five minutes."

"No! No, no, no, they can't take you to jail! Not for defending yourself and somebody else, that's not the way the justice system works. They should be giving you a, I don't know, a Purple Heart or something! I mean, you kill the bad guys," Ichigo rambled on, his heart rate monitor going through the roof as he panicked.

"Whoa, careful there, Ichi, yer gonna give yerself a heart attack or something," Grimmjow fidgeted with the handcuffs around his wrists, knowing he had to tell the love of his life the same speech he'd given while he was sleeping so that Ichigo wouldn't be tied down by a boyfriend in prison and be free to pursue his dreams and be happy. It was now or never. "Look, Ichigo, it's 'bout time ya got rid of me, anyway. All I've ever done was bring ya trouble and-"

"Oh no you don't, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," Ichigo cut him off, amazingly energetic for someone who'd minutes earlier woken up from a medically induced coma. "I heard everything you said while I was asleep. I can't remember every word but it's all in there somewhere, I swear, but only what I heard you say. I heard you coaxing me into waking up and asking me to open my eyes and I promise I was trying_ so _hard. Especially when you were spouting that nonsense about you failing me. I've never heard anything so untrue in my whole life."

"Ichigo, I want-" Grimmjow attempted to say something a little reassuring the second he saw the watery droplets appear in the corners of the orangette's glistening dark amber eyes.

"Well what the fuck about what I want? This-," Ichigo gestured between the two of them,"-is not about your ridiculous pride or masculinity or whatever bullshit you've come up with to split up just because things are going to get a little rough. We've been through so much shit together, Grimm, and we can make it if you could see how much you _have _done for me."

Grimmjow was silent for awhile, then a huge grin split his face and a swell of affection and pride for this orange-haired, doe-eyed creature rose in his chest. "Now, this is why I'm proud to call ya mine, sweetheart."

Somehow, despite the deadbolted handcuffs and Ichigo's injury and various wires wrapped around his body, they met each other halfway in a bone-melting, soul-sucking kiss. Grimmjow parted his lips, allowing Ichigo's tongue to dart inside his warm mouth and savoring the delicious taste of the slick muscle. Tenderly and carefully so as not to disturb any if the various medical accoutrement covering the other's lithe body, the blunette smoothed his hand over the elegant curve of Ichigo's neck and slid around to cusp the nape. He knew very well that his lover shivered in delight when he massaged the back of his neck, his thumb and forefinger caressing the pressure point behind the ears.

"Mmm, Grimm, please don't go," Ichigo murmured against the man's lips, nipping the bottom one playfully. "Can't they let you stay for at least another night?"

"No, they cannot."

Grimmjow felt the younger man jump at the sudden voice sounding to their left by the door and drew back from Ichigo's tempting mouth to give a cursory glance at the brute squad they'd assembled to transport him to the city jail and incarcerate him. There were six uniformed men in total, all big and tall yet not very fit or muscular and the one at the front who'd spoken had a thick mustache but was completely bald underneath his police hat. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, directly following your grace period of forty-eight hours you are now hereby being placed under arrest for the crime of murder in the first degree," the mustachioed, bald man said, his badge on his right breast pocket indicating he was the Chief himself.

"Excuse me, _officer_, but this is a private hospital room. You may not just barge in here whenever you feel like it," Ichigo began, ready to read the police chief the riot act and Grimmjow knew he had to stop the boy before they both ended up in the pen.

"Ichi, it's fine, I can stick up for myself, you know," he muttered under his breath, pressing one last kiss on Ichigo's bruised knuckles. "As soon as you get outta here you can come visit me, yeah? It ain't the end of the world."

Three of the officers hurried over to where Grimmjow was sitting, one of them with their taser drawn and he mentally swore if he dared used it on him the man would be eating through a stomach tube when he was done with him (yeah, being tased is not fun.) They unlocked the handcuffs from the bed rail, fastening them behind the former _Sexta_'s back, and clasping chained shackles around his ankles. During the whole thing the chief was reading him his rights but he wasn't listening, instead mouthing _'Love ya, kid' _to Ichigo and giving him a saucy wink like he wasn't currently being arrested for first degree murder.

Ichigo was not so clandestine about his final goodbye, ignoring the pain in his shoulder so he could get up onto his knees and snatch Grimmjow away from the police for one last mind-blowing kiss that had some of the officers blushing at such an ardent public display of affection. Nevertheless, they dragged Grimmjow away, who was escorted out of the hospital and into the squad car with the biggest smile on his face, which ended up frightening some of the weaker-constituted staff members as they walked out of the building.

He would survive prison, Gin would probably even get him a severely reduced sentence, and then he would go back home to his brat, his sweetheart, his Ichigo.

* * *

><p>...<p>

_Six Months Later_

_Christmas Eve_

_..._

* * *

><p>"<em>Attention: all inmates who want to go outside for rec time line up single file by the blue double doors! You have one minute to be in line or you will be locked inside!" <em>the loudspeaker blared over the massive, open space that housed Rukongai's most dangerous and notorious male criminals.

It was basically shaped like a dome with the individual cells lined along the walls on two levels, two sets of stairs on the north and south ends, the doors leading to the yard to the west. In the middle of everything was the common area, where there were numerous circular tables with chairs made out of some kind of plastic too heavy to pick up and throw at guards and/or other prisoners. There was also a TV set by the northeastern point playing some re-run of a talk show whose ratings depended on scandal and vulgarities.

And for the past six months, this had been Grimmjow's home.

Currently he was sitting at the table farthest away from the control desk where the corrections officers would casually glance over at the security footage every so often in between eating boxes of Krispy Kreme. His chair was leaning against the concrete wall while his arms and legs were crossed, feet up on the table, as he surveyed the entirety of the prison's common area. Dressed in his orange jumpsuit with the top few buttons undone to show the white undershirt he wore and a navy blue wool beanie halfway pulled on, strands of his aquamarine hair falling over his forehead, and a handmade cigarette tucked behind his ear he looked just like every other inmate.

But anyone who'd stepped one foot inside the prison walls knew he was far from it.

In the county jail where he'd vacationed for a month while his trial went underway, Gin had killed in the courtroom and gotten his charges reduced to second degree manslaughter and his sentence lowered from twenty-five to life to one single year, of which he'd already served half. That was when he'd been transferred to the state prison, which was a world of difference from the county jail, and the worst part about his arrival there? The inmates had all recognized him as _Sexta_.

Needless to say, he'd been the prison's most wanted during those first two weeks, almost every gang in the system vowing to avenge one of their own Grimmjow had disposed of sometime or another. That was until he'd been jumped in the showers by multiple members of both Hueco Mundo and the Shinigami, an entire audience crowding around the entrance to witness the immaculate beatdown of eleven gangbangers by a naked dude and ever since he'd been crowned the king of this joint, baby. Or as some say on the inside the "Shut Call." Every CO, dealer, affliate, gang member and their leaders were in his back pocket. Hell, even the warden was in on his game. It was like these men had all simply been waiting for someone to take charge and lead them.

Plus, they'd also given him a new nickname - _Pantera_.

"Hey man, you goin' out ta play ball taday?" a deep but youthful voice asked, addressing him a bit casually than most did but when he looked over to see Renji, a high-ranking Shinigami and best resident tattoo artist with a head full of long scarlet red hair and jagged tribal designs inked all over his body, Grimmjow relaxed. He and Renji were cool. "I'm feelin' pretty hot taday, jus' so ya know. Renji smirked, fanning the flames of their friendly rivalry when it came to the court.

"D'ya even 'ave ta ask?" Grimmjow said, smirking devilishly and swinging his legs off the table. "An' this feelin' of yers, would ya be willin' ta put money on it?" he asked, a devious glint in his eye as he and the redhead walked over to the line forming over at the blue double doors, taking no notive of how the men already in line shuffled aside to allow them to pass right up to the front.

"Hmm, no, not money..." Renji mused teasingly, stroking his chin as he pretended to think hard about his 'feeling.' "But I woul' say I gotta bit of a sweet tooth."

"Yer on, firecrotch," Grimmjow sneered, confident that when such a valuable pot was at stake he would crush his opponent into the dust. "An' if I win, ya gotta do that favor we talked 'bout las' week fer _free._"

"Free! My work ain't never free, dude," the redhead scoffed, withdrawing a black bandana (the color of the Shinigami) and tying it tightly around his head. "Whatever, gonna win anyways so it don't even matter."

"Righ', just like ya won yesterday's game? An' tha game 'fore that?"

"Shut the fuck up, man. Taday's my day, I can feel it!"

At that moment the doors automatically swung open with the sound of a deafeningly loud buzzer. The frosty air immediately brushed over Grimmjow's face and he let a tiny secret smile tilt his full lips. Playing ball wasn't the only thing that made rec time his favorite part of the day.

"_There will be no spitting, fighting, or any other unruly behavior allowed in the yard. If you are greeting visitors by the gates, remember there is to be absolutely NO touching between inmates and visitors and NO contraband or products of any kind are to be passed through the gate. You have thirty minutes before everyone is required to line up for role call,"_ the voice on the loudspeaker droned the same speech they all heard everyday and the parade of prisoners spread out and headed to wherever their affiliated gang had claimed territory.

Grimmjow strolled leisurely out onto the blacktop that spanned about the size of a professional basketball court, his eyes scanning the length of the chain link barbed wire fence that surrounded it. Once he spotted what he was looking for he grinned and fleetingly glanced at Renji. "'Ey, why don' ya warm up fer a lil' while an' I'll come beat yer ass later," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, jus' don't waste all yer time flirtin' again," the other man said, striding away towards the basketball hoop while Grimmjow jogged in the opposite direction, where a small group of people were waiting to pay one inmate or another a short visit for the holiday. It's probably not surprising that not many of the prisoners received visitors and those that did rarely did, averaging a few times a year if they were lucky.

Grimmjow was the only one who had a visitor waiting for him everyday at the beginning of rec time, just like clockwork.

And he swore up and down with every day that passed Ichigo became more and more stunning, especially how he looked right at that moment wearing Grimmjow's old red plaid lumberjack coat that was a few sizes too big, jeans ripped at the knees, black Timberlands the leather gloves the blunette bought for him all the way back when they still lived in Hanging Dog,

Speaking of which, Ichigo, with Aizen's help, had long since moved from Rukongai out to a nice, three-bedroom house in a suburb called Junrinan. The orangette also worked full-time as a cake decorator at a local bakery but was saving up to buy his own place, which was why he never failed to bring a Tupperware container full of leftover cake for Grimmjow, since he apparently couldn't live off the slop they served at the prison. One last addition Ichigo had made was Shiro, a pure white Husky/Malamute mix with the strangest black and gold eyes he'd adopted from an animal shelter because according to him the house had felt too lonely living in it all by himself. At first Grimmjow had been wary of the mutt, having a natural aversion to canines, but had grown to like the dog more and more after all the stories he'd heard about Shiro being extremely protective of and loyal to Ichigo. He was actually at his owner's side right now, sitting still obediently as he evidently only behaved for Ichigo.

"Well, look at wha' Santa brought me, I must've been a good boy this year," Grimmjow chucked, unable to resist, and he walked straight up to the chain link fence, lacing his fingers through it so that he and Ichigo were mere inches apart. It was agony, he had to admit. "Or a very naughty one, perhaps?"

"Hello, Grimmjow," Ichigo greeted formerly, though his chocolate brown eyes shone with amusement and he leaned up on his tiptoes so that his and Grimmjow's lips could collide through a gap in the chain fence, neither of them wanting to break away until their lungs were screaming for air. "I still feel like we're going to get caught for doing that. Isn't it against the rules or something?" the orangette said breathlessly.

Grimmjow shrugged dismissively, turning his attention to the enticing container in the crook of Ichigo's left arm. "So, wha'dya bring me?" he questioned eagerly, his mouth watering at the promise of his daily treat.

"Is that all you want me for? Kisses and cake?" Ichigo demanded haughtily, sticking his nose up in the air.

"Yes, _but _they're the _best _kisses and cake."

"Ah well, I guess I can live with that," the orange-haired man sighed, opening the lid of the container full of pastries. "Um, I have mostly holiday type stuff, like gingerbread, sugar cookies, a yule log somewhere in there, I think. Oh, and I threw in some German chocolate cake since I know you like it and I'm the best boyfriend ever."

"Whatta bout me? I've got a treat for you, too," Grimmjow said, his smirk widening into a full on Grinch as he snatched up a cookie in the shape of a Christmas tree and bit into it. "It's kinda fer both of us, actually."

"Oh really? And just what is this treat for the both of us?" Ichigo arched a brow, obviously skeptical of what the blunette might be planning. Grimmjow grabbed another cookie, this one a bell shape, and pressed himself against the fence so they were close as possible.

"Have ya ever 'eard of a 'conjugal visit'?" he said, licking sugar off his lips almost lasciviously.

"What? I mean, I think I've heard of it before but I..." Ichigo trailed off, his eyes widening impossibly and his mouth dropped. "W-wait, you mean a... y-you and I-..."

Down by their legs, Shiro barked as if to confirm his owner's suspicions. "Smart boy," Grimmjow commented approvingly, slipping the rest of his cookie through the chain links to feed it to the mutt.

"Don't give that to him, he'll get sick," Ichigo scolded even though Shiro was already chomping on the pastry happily.

"He'll be fine," the blue-haired inmate waved off the other's concerns. "So, should I be expectin' ya tomorrow evenin' or no?"

"Okay, hold on a second," the younger man said, seeming a bit overwhelmed. "I'm still not exactly sure what this 'conjugal visit' is. I mean, I can guess... " Grimmjow knew that Ichigo would blame the bitter cold wind for his pinkened cheek, yet fascinatingly enough the other still was so shy when the subject of s-e-x came up - when they were talking about it, that it, not during the actual act. Not at all.

"Basically this program or whatever 'ere at tha prison sets up places, usually trailers, for couples ta spend some _quality time _for a few hours tagether durin' tha holidays an' I signed us up fer it," he elaborated. "I thought-"

"All right, let me get this straight. You're saying we'll really have a few hours to be together tomorrow, like _really_ be together and not have to talk through a fence?" Ichigo interrogated rapidly, his lovely face lighting up just like a Christmas tree, only more beautiful.

"'S kinda the point, babe."

Ichigo's next kiss was so vigorous that both of them reluctantly parted ways with cuts on their lips from the metal of the fence, not that Grimmjow particularly minded. Knowing that tomorrow night he would be able to spend hours alone with Ichigo doing whatever they pleased put him in such a good mood he even gave Renji the gingerbread from his goodie basket.

Nevermind that he didn't like gingerbread.

* * *

><p>...<p>

_One Day Later_

_Christmas _

_..._

* * *

><p>Grimmjow stood in front of the dingy, cracked mirror that hung above the sink in his solitary cell, his chest bare as he studied his newest physical feature, one meant to be there, he thought. It was hard to believe he hadn't come up with the idea for it until then. He merely hoped it would be met with the same kind of enthusiasm he felt toward it,<p>

Eyes flickering over to a small digital clock he read that it was 4:45 p.m., which left him a measly fifteen minutes to make his way over to the eastern border of the prison where he'd reserved one of the trailers. Slipping his undershirt on to ensure his recent addition wouldn't be revealed prematurely, Grimmjow quickly donned the bright orange jumpsuit all inmates in the facility were required to wear. He must've been the sole occupant who didn't detest the color.

Taking the steps in threes down the stairs from the second level where his cell was located, he headed for the control desk. The sole corrections officer sitting on duty was a behemoth of a man who wore tacky gold jewelry and his hair in an absurd jet black pompadour. And to make things worse he was almost always stuffing his face with potato chips, crumbs constantly decorating the front of his officer's uniform. Absolutely disgusting but Omaeda was by far the easiest CO to bribe and Grimmjow had been counting on this being the man's shift.

"Oh, is it time for you to go down already?" Omaeda said once the blunette stepped up to the desk, the civil servant's expression as dimly lit as he himself was. He stood up to his full height, which had to be close to seven feet tall, and brushed some of the heavy coating of chip residue off his hands on his pants."I guess you're the only one who's getting lucky tonight, 'ey?" Omaeda guffawed, walking from around the desk to lead Grimmjow to where he would be getting 'lucky' and pulling his set of keys from the coiled cord on his belt that was about ready to burst.

"So, what's she look like, this broad of yours? Blonde, brunette? Ooh, a redhead?" Omaeda continued on as they strode past the common area through a door on the eastern part of the rotund structure which led them straight outside. There were flood lights high above illuminating the path to a corner where three generic stationary trailers were situated, though there was no sign of Ichigo anywhere around them and Grimmjow. "Come on, give a man something to think about while I'm sitting at that desk."

Grimmjow rounded on the large man, who dwarfed the inmate's six foot three frame and yet shuffled back a few steps in alarm. "Go. The Fuck. Away," he hissed like his feline namesake, slipping a stack of bills rolled up in a rubber band from an inner pocket sewn he'd had sewn into his jumpsuit. "And you get this, got it? Come back and get me in the mornin' an' ya'll get double. Do we 'ave an understanding?"

Omaeda frowned, glancing over his shoulders like someone might be watching them, then he nodded and pointed to the trailer in the middle of the three. "That one's yours for the night. I'll let you back in for role call at six-thirty, is that okay?"

Grimmjow shoved the money at the CO as his answer, taking off in the direction he'd been pointed in and wondering if Ichigo was already inside or was running late. He didn't like not knowing where the orangette was on the grounds of a state prison and he practically sprinted to the steps directly below a heavy metal door equipped with three deadbolts. Again he frowned when he turned the knob to find it totally unlocked, swinging the door open and letting himself inside.

Well, now he definitely knew that Ichigo had been here before him at some point though the man was not anywhere in the one room space. Usually this trailer was furnished with an ancient pull out couch, an even older TV with antennae, a small dresser, and a ceiling fan lamp. Tonight was slightly different though, Grimmjow noted, as there were holiday decorations all over the room - golden garlands lining the shuttered window, the TV, and dresser, multi-colored lights strung from the lamp out to each corner, an array of his lover's to die for pastries, and there was even a five foot tall Christmas tree in the corner opposite him bedecked in lights, ornaments and candy canes. Even his shriveled little black heart was touched by the fact Ichigo had done all of this for him.

Speaking of the orangette, where had he disappeared to?

"Ichi? You in here?" Grimmjow called out, not moving from his spot by the door. "Ichigo?"

"_I'm in here!" _that golden baritone rang out from the farthest corner, the blue-haired man relieved to see he'd missed the extra camouflaged door made of the same 1970's wooden paneling as the walls that had to be the bathroom. "_D-don't come in! I'm uh just... just... wait out there, I'll be out soon!"_

Ichigo had to know that wasn't going to fly with Grimmjow, who headed directly for the bathroom door and tried the handle but this one was locked. He could without a doubt hear the hint of distress in Ichigo's tone and his brow furrowed in confusion, pondering what it was that was so plainly bothering the other. "_I said don't come in!_" the younger man nearly shrieked and Grimmjow could hear frantic shuffling of some items.

"Wha's tha matter? You sick er somethin'?"

"_N-no, I'm fine. I-...UGH, I am going to _KILL _Szayel the next time I see him!" _Ichigo shouted in clear frustration and there were more noises of things being rustled around, perhaps in some kind of bag, then the bathroom door practically flew open. "Just look at what he did to me! I look like a total idiot and it's all his fault, that little..."

Grimmjow couldn't exactly reply at that time because he was pretty sure his jaw was on the floor. If what he was currently seeing before him was Szayel's work he would have to remember to get down on his knees and thank the man. It goes without saying that no matter what Ichigo wore he was always gorgeous in his eyes but this... this was on a whole different level. To be honest, Ichigo was a raunchy, steamy portrait of pure sex.

How Szayel had managed to get the boy into a men's Sexy Santa outfit, Grimmjow would never know. It was wantonly skimpy, consisting of skintight red vinyl booty shorts, a black belt and gold buckle, a pair of glittery red suspenders worn over a completely naked torso - well naked except for the sparkly white snowflake pasties - black leather gloves and lace up boots. "Oh, I almost forgot the cherry on top of this ridiculous sundae," Ichigo snapped sarcastically, whipping a traditional red and white santa hat off the sink and yanking it on over his head. "Go ahead, you can laugh now."

"Ichi?"

"What?"

"Run."

The orange-haired Santa's face screwed up in evident bewilderment at the other's command yet when the next second Grimmjow lunged for him he apparently got the memo and yelped, slipping out of the elder's grasp and past him. A shark-like smile only a lunatic could love broke out on Grimmjow's lips and he quickly began to give chase, hurdling over the sofa toward Ichigo who leapt away. Damn, he'd forgotten how fast that little minx was.

"Grimmjow, stop it!" Ichigo yelled at him, throwing his Santa hat at the man chasing him around the tiny space like they were predator and prey, which in a way they very much were.

"All right, all right," Grimmjow pouted, stopping halfway across the room from the other man. "But you started it by wearing that outfit with the snowflakes and the shorts..." He trailed off completely, licking his lips as he eyed the outline of his lover's goods through the clingy fabric.

"Are you serious? You... _like_ this on me?" Ichigo asked unbelievingly, his flattery clear underneath his disbelief as the sunkissed flesh of his face and decolletage flushed a light pink.

"Sweetheart, it's takin' everything I have not to jump you right now," Grimmjow answered honestly and was surprised when he earned a sassy smirk in response.

"Oh. _So_, then why don't you?" Ichigo challenged, folding his arms over his practically nude chest and cocking one hip to the side. "If you want it... come and _get it._" And that was all the invitation Grimmjow needed, bursting with speed so that he had what he wanted in his arms and falling backwards on the couch before the object of his desire could so much as bat his thick, dark lashes in that come hither manner. The blunette cradled the back of Ichigo's neck in one hand and rested his other on a lithe hip just above the hemline of those illegally enticing shorts.

They stared at each other for a drawn out moment of perfect tension, their long-denied want to feel the other's touch finally fulfilled an erotic epiphany. Then their lips met, soft and playful at first but soon rapidly succumbing to the sensual desires they'd simply dreamed of the past six months. Grimmjow growled into Ichigo's mouth, forcefully prying it open with his hot tongue and pressing his need for dominance, which he was granted fervently, the younger allowing Grimmjow to taste all and any part of him. The submissive behavior called to the blunette's inner beast, who rumbled in satisfaction and lust and compelled him to slip his hand at Ichigo's waist down the toned flesh of his hip and then he was smoothing his broad, calloused hands along the satiny, peachy skin of his lover's slender thighs.

Hooking a hand under Ichigo's knee, he hitched that leg up around his waist so that he could slide his knee between the boy's legs. The latter moaned, biting down on Grimmjow's lower lip and then suckling it tenderly to soothe the sore spot. "I've missed you so much," Ichigo whispered breathily even while placing butterfly kisses on the larger man's chin and jawline. "God, I get so lonely at night lying in bed and I start thinking about you," he said, shuddering.

"Yeah? Wha' kind 'a things did ya think 'bout me?" Grimmjow asked, smirking while he dipped his head down to nip at the juncture of Ichigo's throat and shoulder which made the other groan agonizingly.

"Mm, I thought about if you were there with me and... ah, touching me like this," the boy said, sounding helpless and seductive at the same time. Grimmjow purred at the confirmation no matter how long they were separated Ichigo always thought about him, and only him. "And if I could touch you again." Ichigo's nimble fingers undid the buttons on the inmate's jumpsuit and ran his free hand up to squeeze a strong shoulder.

"So wha' did ya do when I wasn' there ta-," Grimmjow laved his tongue along the middle of lightly defined pectorals and those utterly hot pasties on either side. "Take care 'a ya?"

Ichigo looked down and met the man's eyes, smoldering dark amber boring into Grimmjow like a mystical enchantment as if the ingredient for love potion was in those bewitching pair of beautiful eyes. "I... I had to take care of myself," he said, panting slightly. "I would close my eyes and pretend it was you, but it was never enough. I needed you, so badly I thought I would lose my mind."

"Aw, don' worry now, babe," Grimmjow murmured, ego well catered to and turned on beyond belief, blood pooling in his loins making them throb with desperate primal urges. "We 'ave the whole night ta make up fer los' time."

"Oh fuck, then what are we waiting for?" Ichigo moaned loudly, ripping away the top of Grimm's jumpsuit and some of the white undershirt, as well. Grimmjow didn't even realize the orangette had frozen still until he heard a faint "Oh my God" fall from parted lips, causing him to glance at Ichigo's shocked face and then back to his chest so that realization dawned on him. He'd been so blinded by lust he'd forgotten to tell the other about _that_.

Ichigo laid a hand over Grimmjow's heart, tracing the newly inked lines there that formed a kanji symbol. "That's my name," he said a bit dumbly and it was difficult to tell whether he loved or hated the tattoo Grimmjow had gotten just last night that spelled '_Ichigo' _in kanji over his heart, where it should be. "Grimm, that's-"

"I know ya don' really like tattoos, but I like havin' it there as a sorta... reminder."

"Reminder of what?"

"What's important," Grimmjow explained, not wanting to go into a dramatic, romantic soliloquy of how Ichigo was the one person he ever loved and therefore owned his heart. Luckily, he didn't have to because Ichigo seized him for a bombastic kiss, the other man holding him so tightly it actually started to hurt when he at last let go.

"I love you," Ichigo vowed and after a few seconds began shifting upwards so that Grimmjow was forced to lean back. "Now, I suppose it's my turn to show _you_." He bit his lower lip enticingly and straddled the older man's lap, who was certainly enjoying this rare, bold side of Ichigo. Slipping the suspenders off his shoulders, the orangette caressed himself up from his V-lines to his collarbone and Grimmjow hummed in appreciation. Then Ichigo bent over and placed his hands on the man's chest, slowly beginning to crawl backwards very catlike and stopped when his head was directly above his lap, the sultry smile he sent back up to his longtime lover enough to get him rock hard.

Removing his black gloves, Ichigo pulled the orange pantlegs down to his knees and exposing a sizable erection straining against black boxer briefs, lowering himself even further so that his mouth was inches away from the bulge and Grimmjow could feel hot, moist breath ghosting over the sensitive area. He let his head fall back as Ichigo reached into the open fly of his briefs and wrapped those talented fingers around the shaft of Grimmjow's manhood, ever so slowly withdrawing it out into the cool air. Biting down on the inside of his inner cheek, Grimmjow sank under the waves of bliss as that smooth hand began skillfully stroking him, running a blunt thumbnail across the slit at the head that was already dripping.

Gathering more courage, Ichigo pressed a kiss to the tip and then lapped at the beads of precome there. Grimmjow's eyes rolled in the back of his head as a warm, wet mouth began taking the head inside, steadily descending while a sinful tongue swept along the underside of his erection and swirled around the tip once more. Unconsciously the man's hand threaded through Ichigo's hair, a gentle gesture instead of forcing the other down even further, and he groaned in pleasure when the other's cheeks hollowed. The stimulation simply increased when Ichigo hummed around his mouthful, creating a dizzyingly intense sensation.

As Grimmjow sensed one of the younger man's drift down to the base of his manhood, cupping the sac of flesh there, he knew he had to - very unwillingly - stop Ichigo or else this would all be over way too soon. He gripped the orangette's chin and lifted his face up to his own, giving him a peck on the lips for his delicious performance. "Did'ya bring-"

"I put it in the dresser drawer," Ichigo said hastily, grinding his clothed hardness against Grimmjow's bare one, both of them hissing at the satisfaction of contact.

"I'll get it, so ya jus' lay back down," Grimmjow directed, smiling lazily at his flushed, panting lover. He angled himself around to reach for the dresser, opening the drawer and finding his prize in the form of a small clear bottle with red wrapping. Returning to his Ichigo who was so obviously in need of some sort of release, he arched an eyebrow as he read the label. "Coca-cola flavored?" he asked, unable to believe Ichigo would buy such a thing.

"Might as well make it taste good, right?" he said, chuckling breathlessly.

"Mmm, tha's pretty kinky fer ya, Ichi," Grimmjow said, grinning and leaning over on one hand so he was parallel with that tempting body. He unbuckled Ichigo's belt with one hand and hooked the fingers into the waistband of those tiny red shorts, tearing the vinyl fabric away from the man's frame. He would mourn the loss of those shorts later, he was sure, yet he was so focused on getting to the main event his patience was nearing zero - they could take their time later, they did have all night after all. "Imma need ya ta spread 'em, babe," he husked, Ichigo blushing harder but allowing his legs to fall back and to the sides so that everything he had to offer was on display to the blunette, who felt a head rush at the erotic sight.

Grimmjow ripped the wrapping off the bottle of lubricant with his teeth, his other hand slithering all the way up from a slender ankle to the silken skin of Ichigo's inner thigh. Taking pity on the boy, he gripped the hard column of flesh between his legs and began stroking. "Ah, yessss..." Ichigo mewled, his eyes drifting closed. "More, I can't wait any longer."

The blue-haired man obliged his beloved's request, pouring a generous amount of thick clear gel onto his fingers and brought them to circle teasingly around Ichigo's twitching entrance. He started to work in the lube using his thumb, pressing the tip of it past that amazingly tight ring of muscle. Ichigo hooked his arms round Grimmjow's strong neck, pulling him in for a sloppy liplock, their tongues tangling together while the latter eased his index finger inside Ichigo, Damn, he could feel that the other man had gotten even tighter during his six months of celibacy and his erection twitched at the thought of being buried in that tight channel.

He had three fingers massaging Ichigo's hole, spreading him and getting him nice and relaxed for what was to come, when he found that sweet spot that had the orangette's hips bucking wildly as a series of short moans escaped his parted mouth. "Fuck, tha's it, Ichi," Grimmjow rumbled primitively, his instincts screaming for him to take what was his.

"Grimm, please just do it already. Just fuck me _now_," Ichigo breathed, running his hands up and down the other's bare chest.

"Mm, say no more," Grimmjow murmured, slipping his fingers free from the relaxed but still incredibly snug hole. "Turn on yer side."

Ichigo nodded and rolled onto his right side so he was facing the front of the couch and made room for the older man to shift into place behind him, melding the front of his body to that beautiful figure covered in flawless tawny flesh. Grimmjow's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the still raised, red scar that marred Ichigo's right shoulder, not giving it a second thought before kissing the healed wound in a tender moment. Then he gripped the back of Ichigo's knee, moving that leg up so that the boy's most intimate area was easily accessible.

Coating the entire length of his erection with lubricant, Grimmjow lined up with that small entrance and nuzzled the crook of Ichigo's neck. "Ready?" he murmured softly.

"God, yes," was his answer and so Grimmjow began to steadily but carefully push himself inside his lover. He heard Ichigo exhale harshly as he pressed in farther and paused for a moment to let the other adjust then continued the almost painfully slow process of fully entering the orangette's channel. However, at last he was buried in to the hilt and let out a shaky exhale as he exerted all his self-control not to move,

"Ya good down there, Ichi?" he asked quietly, noticing Ichigo's harsh breathing as he attempted to accustom himself to Grimmjow's size again.

"Just move, damn it," came Ichigo's strained whisper and the blunette acquiesced, not drawing out but rather rotating his hips in controlled circles so that he stayed deep within the other yet also brushed against his prostate with acute accuracy. Once he'd stimulated that sweet spot a few times, Ichigo was gasping in pleasure. "H-harder," he demanded.

It was then that Grimmjow began thrusting in and out, forcing out cries of bliss from his orangette, He kept ahold of Ichigo's leg and began nipping at the sensitive spot behind the man's ear. Being inside Ichigo, being one with him again was heaven, and he assumed his lover felt the same when he turned his head and caught Grimmjow's lips in another passion-fueled kiss.

The intensity of their lovemaking after such an extended period of being apart and therefore celibate was causing them both to rapidly ascend to their releases. "A-ah, I'm close," Ichigo confessed under his breath, clearly not having much energy to spare.

"Unh, me too," Grimmjow grunted, speeding up his thrusts until they lost all sense of rhythm and were only concerned with reaching the highest point of ecstasy. Ichigo's almost obscenely wanton moans as he neared his finish just turned him on even more and when he felt his lover convulse around him as he climaxed that pushed him over the edge as well, delirious bliss surging through his entire being as he came deep within the other.

They both slumped bonelessly into the couch's cushions at the same time, limbs tangled and short of breath. Grimmjow used the last of his reserve energy to pull out of Ichigo, pushing aside the need to clean themselves up in favor of lying there with his sweetheart for the first time in six long months.

"You have no idea how badly I needed that," Ichigo said after a while, chuckling softly.

"Well, I'm 'ere ta service those in need."

"Uh-huh, you wish."

Grimmjow didn't have the opportunity to think of a comeback as the next millisecond Ichigo shot up in a sitting position, eyes wide, "I can't believe I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, carefully standing up on his shaky legs and the other man was about to offer to get whatever he needed for him but Ichigo was already striding over, stark naked (not that Grimmjow minded), to the Christmas tree set up in the room.

Grimmjow pushed himself up on his elbows as he came back with a sealed red envelope that only read _'Grimm'_ on the front and handed it over. The man stared at the thing for a few seconds until Ichigo sighed exasperatedly. "It's your Christmas present," he explained, gesturing toward the envelope. "Come on, open it!"

Tearing the top of the envelope with his thumbnail, Grimmjow plucked out the contents - a digital photograph of a cherry red 1952 Harley-Davidson FL Hydra-Glide in decent shape but in need of some TLC. It was a thing of beauty for sure yet he wasn't sure why his present was a picture of one.

"Oh Jesus Christ, Grimmjow, the _bike _is your present," Ichigo clarified, rolling his eyes. "I know it's a little beat up but I thought it could be like a pet project for you when you come back home."

"This is _my _bike?"

"Yep, all yours."

Grimmjow dropped the papers in his hands and swept Ichigo up in his arms to assail his face and throat with countless kisses, "You... are... the best," he proclaimed in between kissing the younger's cheek who laughed at the man's dramatics and tried to swat him away.

Even with Grimmjow in prison, that was the best Christmas they'd ever had.

* * *

><p>...<p>

_Six Months Later_

_..._

* * *

><p>Grimmjow never realized how much he'd taken freedom for granted until the day came he was released from prison and stepped outside that concrete cage he'd been confined in for a year. One miserable, lifeless, very, <em>very <em>long year.

He just walked outside the chain link fence when an armoured truck drove by, revealing the two figures standing at the edge of the sidewalk waiting for him. As soon as they spotted him in the leather jacket and jeans he'd been wearing when he was arrested at the hospital they immediately began barrelling toward him, dog and man running beside one another to practically jump him in their enthusiasm. He stumbled backward as their combined weight slammed into him, orange spikes burying into his shoulder while white paws dug into his thigh,

He wrapped his arm around the man clutching onto his shirt much like he had when they first met, kissing that head of tangerine hair, and gave his other admirer some attention by scratching behind his ears. "While I appreciate tha love you two, I'd rather get as far 'way from this hellhole as fast as possible," he said and the other two backed away, though they weren't quite finished yet,

"Wait, I made this especially to give to you when you walked out."

From out of a small container, Grimmjow was presented with a single cupcake whose frosting decoration clearly depicted a miniature version of himself, blue hair and everything, only with white fluffy wings and a halo atop his head.

"You know, 'cause you're finally free."

"Tha' I am," Grimmjow said blissfully, laying his arm over the other's shoulders and taking a hold of their furry companion's leash. "Shiro, Ichigo, let's go home."

* * *

><p><em>Sometimes it seems that the going is just too rough<em>

_And things go wrong no matter what I do_

_Now and then it seems that life is just too much_

_But you've got the love I need to see me through_

_When food is gone you are my daily meal_

_When friends are gone I know my saviour's love is real_

_Your love is real_

_You got the love_

_~ "You've Got the Love" - Florence + the Machine_

* * *

><p><em>...<em>

THE END

...

* * *

><p><em><strong>Afterword:<strong>_

_**...**_

_I did it! I finally finished a story! Ah, it's a great feeling of accomplishment, I'll tell you that. I never even intended this fic to be this long at all, the idea for it even blossomed out of thin air like some sort of invisible flower that ended up in my bouquet of stories. I just had this great burst of inspiration and started writing until I had a first chapter that I originally intended to be a one-shot, then a two-shot, but the soul of this story somehow developed on its own and captured my heart._

_What I ended up hoping to accomplish by writing this fic was to take a departure from my heavy repertoire of fantasy-fueled tales. I wanted to show that it was possible that I could pen a love story that portrayed a stark contrast between the grayscale, sometimes grisly "reality" and the wildly surreal and almost mythical phantasm of soul mates. The quality of a romance does not rely on its dramatic grandeur but rather the lovers themselves. Histrionics can be frivolous in the face of something as overworldly as true love. The greatest acts of love are the little ones. _

_The angel theme really was just an extension of my own fascination with angel lore and that spiritual motif manifested itself much like the origin of the story itself. I would like to reiterate here that no part of this story was in any way a commentary on any religious sect or belief. It was simply a metaphor. _

_I had to sneak a little Christmas in this last part since once again I don't have time to write a story for my favorite holiday. Sigh. Oh well, at least I bet you haven't read Grimm and Ichi going at it in a prison conjugal trailer. I like to mix things up every now and then, you know. ;) _

_In conclusion, I sincerely hoped you enjoyed reading __**Blue Collar Angel. **__Thank you times a million for all your support! I couldn't have done it without you. _

_Love,_

_Caribou_


End file.
